


Magan's Answered Drabble Requests

by negickapologist (neganstonguething)



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Requests, Smut, honestly a little bit of everything, most of these are under 1k words, rated explicit just in case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 19:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 28,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10748658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neganstonguething/pseuds/negickapologist
Summary: On Tumblr, I sometimes reblog ask memes that generate drabble prompts. A lovely anonymous user over there asked for me to upload them here, so this is where I will keep them! These are all really short, seeing as they're drabbles, but if that's youre cuppa', hope you enjoy! c:





	1. Prompt: "What's so damn funny?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by hatterized on Tumblr.

Negan’s laughing. Outright laughing. Rick looks like a fucking water-soaked, blue-eyed alley cat standing on his porch in the rain like this. He looks just on the right side of pathetic, with the rain having washed straight through his blue button-up and soaked his hair down to a dripping, curly mess that hangs in his face and off the back of his neck. He’s panting like he just ran the goddamned mile.

“Why in the _fuck_  are you out of breath?” Negan says amidst a series of amused chuckles. 

Rick narrows his eyes at that comment, his hand moving to brace itself on the doorway to Negan’s home. Negan can’t really tell if he’s irritated or not, but it doesn’t matter much, because with a growl, the little alley cat is suddenly lunging forward and pouncing, catching Negan’s shirt in his grip and yanking him down for a rough, hungry kiss.

And even though Negan’s beyond amused about the whole situation, he’s melting right into that kiss. He’s throwing his arms around Rick’s waist and pulling him into the doorway, and Rick’s yanking the door shut behind him, and then they’re stumbling, falling, hitting the ground, and the kiss only breaks upon the impact.

Negan laughs yet again, and Rick pulls away, scowling.

“…What’s so damn funny?” He snarls, blue eyes wide with a comical type of fury that only has Negan cracking up even harder. He bursts out into another fit of snickers and chortles, until Rick loses his temper and punches him hard in the chest. “Stop being an asshole, Negan.”

The hit hurts, and Negan takes a moment to clutch at the aching spot, before he finally calms down and just…grins. He reaches up, carding his fingers through Rick’s rain-soaked hair. He smells the spring air on him, relishes in the softness of those lips against his and the scruff of his beard against Negan’s as he steals another kiss. When he pulls back, he’s smiling.

“I thought you didn’t want me. And yet, here you are, apparently running to my doorstep in the rain like you belong in a romantic comedy from the nineties. You’re so fucking cliche, Rick Grimes.”

“Yeah, well.” Rick rolls his eyes and kisses Negan again. “Things change, so you can shut up and take what you get.”

“Don’t mind if I fucking do.” Negan says against Rick’s lips, arms moving to slide around his waist once more.


	2. Prompt: "Please don't leave me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by abaseballbatdoesnthaveapussy on Tumblr.

When it comes to Negan, Rick is in a perpetual state of wavering back and forth. He hates how deeply he cares for the guy, can’t decide when it even turned out that way, and at the same time, wants nothing more than to be around him.

But it’s just…so difficult to get his mind around it.

The worst part is that he and Negan have already gotten physically involved. Rick doesn’t remember what triggered it the first time, but he does remember being shoved hard against the wall in his own home in Alexandria and Negan’s warmth and strength and general presence engulfing him like a big bear hug, making him feel more at home than he should have in the company of someone like Negan.

Negan killed Glenn and Abraham, and that’s never going to go away. He’s never going to be able to forget that, and neither is Carl, or Michonne, or anyone in Alexandria. That’s going to be something that not just Negan or Rick, but _everyone_ has to live with.

So what’s he supposed to do?

In a way, it feels like a good punishment for that. Rick figures that if he and Negan actually _do_ take this thing to the next step (which is complicated as it is, wives into consideration and all), he’s going to be around more often, and he’s going to be facing the looks everyone gives him. People want him _dead_ , and he’s going to have to live with that.

But then again, so does Rick. Rick killed people. He probably will in the future. That’s just part of how this world works. It’s all one big giant gray area in this new world, and when he thinks of it that way, being with Negan doesn’t seem as wrong.

He has feelings for Negan. Overwhelming ones. He doesn’t know where they came from, but they’re there. And he doesn’t want this to stop. Negan is an enigma, and Rick wants to know more about him. He wants to see what other sides there are to him, and he wants to hear about how he became the guy he is today.

So when Negan speaks up from the couch in Rick’s home, late at night, after one hell of a tense conversation about what Alexandria has to do for the Sanctuary, Rick’s heart feels on fire and at the same time wants to shatter.

“Please don’t leave me.”

The living room is dimly lit, with just one lamp on, and it’s across the couch from Negan. So Rick can see every shadow playing on his face. He can see the way the upward curve in his eyebrows plays a mixture of dim light and darkness into the fierceness of his already desperate expression, and he fucking _melts_ , because Negan _never_ looks like that. Negan never looks like everything in front of him is about to disappear. Like he’s about to be all alone, and Rick imagines that for a guy who is almost always surrounded by armed men or wives, that’s a pretty scary thought.

“…Jesus, Negan.” Rick runs his fingers through his own hair, one hand on his hip, as he turns and paces right back toward the other man. “You know I’m not goin’ anywhere. I can’t.” He swallows a dry lump in his throat and shakes his head. “I don’t even know how.”

They’re a mess. They’re a complete disaster, and nothing about whatever this is forming between them makes any sense. But when Rick sees things like this—like the relief washing over Negan’s face, and the big dopey smile in place of that wicked grin—he feels like it’ll be okay.

He knows that there are things he’s never going to be able to erase, but everyone has their demons in this world. It’s just a matter of navigating around them and figuring out what to do after the fact.


	3. Prompt: "Shut up and kiss me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by abaseballbatdoesnthaveapussy on Tumblr.

“Please stop talking.”

Why is Negan like this?

No, seriously. Fucking _seriously_. Rick is ready. He’s lying down on the bed, full damn monty, and Negan’s _talking_.

Sometimes, it’s cute when he gets to going like this, all comically side-tracked by a wayward thought or sudden observation. But right now, it’s just not working that he’s been telling Rick just how _good_ he’s going to make him feel, and how _hard_ he’s going to fuck him. And then all that shit goes out the window when he starts joking about how hilarious it would be if that faulty front leg of the bed suddenly were to surrender to their romp and give way.

And Rick is just sitting here, one eyebrow cocked, waiting for Negan to decide that yeah okay, that’s enough funny business. But apparently, it _isn’t_ enough funny business, because he’s still cracking the hell up over it.

Jesus.

“We might be stuck fucking on the floor, Rick. Imagine us, just a couple of sorry floor fuckers.”

“Negan.” Rick says, trying to be stern but actually having some difficulty containing laughter.

“The carpet burn’s one hell of a goddamn perk, though.”

What the hell is so good about carpet burn? “…Negan.”

“And imagine if I wore a hole into the carpet shaped like your face.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Rick can’t contain himself anymore. He seizes Negan under the shoulders, and in a surprising display of strength, yanks him over until he’s lying atop Rick’s body. The grip on his shoulders shifts until Rick has Negan’s face in either of his hands, making an almost cartoon-like display of squishing his cheeks together.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

Rick sees Negan cross the entire spectrum from amused to shocked to downright aroused all in the course of a few seconds. And the next thing he knows, Negan’s kissing him with what has got to be every single ounce of his energy.

As he smiles and leans up into the kiss, Rick considers it a personal victory.


	4. Prompt: "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by abaseballbatdoesnthaveapussy on Tumblr.

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Rick’s got a gun completely disassembled at a table in front of him as Negan’s question reaches his ears. He doesn’t look away from his work, as he cleans and adjusts and clicks and locks, working tirelessly. Frankly, it’s unsurprising that Negan would ask such a question—at least, to Rick. For one, he’s heard the guy actually tell him he slipped his dick down his throat, so talking about kissing doesn’t exactly seem off the table. And second, Negan’s been on Rick like color on a rainbow for roughly the past few months. It wouldn’t surprise him if the man actually _does_ want a kiss.

At present, they’re by themselves in an RV on a run. Lately, Negan’s been enjoying going on those with Rick.

“Am I supposed to?” Rick wonders aloud as he starts piecing his gun back together.

“The fuck kind of question is that?” Negan’s leaning against the counter a little down the RV’s thin walkway. He looks more amused than irritated, which Rick finally notices as he turns his head to look at the other man. “I mean, you and me have _really_ been palling it out lately—going on runs together, shooting the shit, having a good-as-fuck time. And I know I can’t be the only one to feel it, Rick—the sexual tension’s fucking butcher-knife thick.”

Rick actually knows about the tension—he’s just never allowed himself to make the distinction between plain old tension and actual _sexual_ tension. However, he’s not stupid. He’s seen the way Negan’s gaze occasionally lingers on his eyes or lips, and how his voice drops when he does that thing where he invades Rick’s personal space. It’s always been easier to equate it to Negan just enjoying making Rick uncomfortable. And hell, maybe it was that way at first. But now, Negan’s asking big questions like this one, and it actually makes a ton of sense to Rick.

“Maybe it is.” Rick answers simply. He’s yet again unsurprised when the warmth of Negan’s body engulfs him. Rick sees Negan lie Lucille gently down on the table next to the half-assembled gun, and then the feels the gentle tickle of Negan’s fingers sliding around his waist and to his front, coming to clasp his hands together in a strangely comfortable hold. Negan’s chin rests on Rick’s shoulder, and as he speaks, the heat of his breath brushes across Rick’s neck and face like a massage.

He’s not going to say it without prompting, but he _really_ enjoys this. It’s the first time Negan’s _hugged_ him, but it’s not unwelcome. Even knowing who Negan is, it’s not unwelcome.

“So…answer the damn question.” Negan urges. “Why the fuck haven’t you kissed me yet?”

Rick finishes the task of assembling his gun, taking his sweet time because he knows Negan’s not exactly made of patience, but once everything’s clicked into place, he sets the metal on the table next to Lucille and slowly spins around so that he’s facing Negan in his grip. Even if he _were_ to kiss Negan right now, the close proximity makes it a little hard to see what he’s doing, so he scoots back, taking a seat on the table, and teasingly curls a leg around one of Negan’s thighs to pull him back in, while he himself leans back to rest his weight on his hands, which are palmed out on the table.

“It’s not like I’m the only one who can do it.” Rick says, blue eyes meeting hazel ones. He likes how the words surprise Negan, and how he genuinely takes a second to decide how he’s going to respond. Negan likes making people squirm in discomfort or fear or annoyance, so it’s kind of nice to see him being the one who’s trying to figure out what to say for once.

“Damn, Rick.” Negan finally manages. “Can I safely assume that’s your own brand of granting some fucking permission?”

Rick bares his teeth in an amused grin, before he nods slowly.

“That’s a sexy as fuck way of doing it, too.” Negan continues, and Rick feels his eyes on his lips. He licks his own. “You, sitting on this table, looking all ready for me and shit. Got my dick going crazy like fucking Jiffy Pop.”

Rick rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna do it?”

“You know what?” Negan brings a hand up to Rick’s chest, and he shudders into the way the larger man’s fingers splay out there. He hears Negan’s free hand moving Lucille and the gun to the booth chair, and then he’s being pushed down onto his back on the surface until Negan’s leaning over him, one arm holding him up and the other still on his chest. “You look so fucking good right now, and you’re playing me like a goddamn fiddle. I could literally suck the life out of you with how badly I want to do what you say. But I want _you_ to do it, Rick. C'mon, show me you’re as into this as I am.”

Rick hasn’t even decided where to put his hands yet. His right hand is a little bit of everywhere, playing with the leather of Negan’s jacket on his side, and then his fingertips are on the man’s leather-covered arms, moving up along to his chest, coming to rest on the crook of his neck. He takes in every inch of Negan’s face, caught between ‘this is crazy, we’re supposed to be enemies’ and 'god, he looks like he belongs in a damn museum’, before his gaze settles on Negan’s lips.

“…Okay.” He finally concedes, and the hand on his neck slides up to his face as he pulls him down the few inches left between them and captures Negan’s lips in a kiss. His eyes fall shut, and he’s actually, genuinely surprised by how gentle the whole thing is. Negan has a way of putting every bit of the excitement that goes into his words and his actions into that kiss, condensing it all into this passionate, languid, _relaxing_ feeling. He’s kissing Rick back like it’s a scene from a romance movie, and Rick finds himself thinking that there’s no fucking wonder Negan has so many wives. With a mouth like that, he’d almost propose, too.


	5. Prompt: "How about a request for a oneshot where Rick is saved by Negan after he stops breathing and it's hella awkward?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

It’s like waking up from a dream you can’t remember. Rick’s body is groggy and his limbs feel heavy, and it’s like there’s a weight on his chest and face and…no, there really is a weight on his chest and face and upper body.

Blue eyes snap wide open as air fills his lungs in a gasp, and Rick shoves. He feels how weak his muscles are–how pathetic the push actually is, but the offending weight backs off anyway. His vision darts around frantically until it settles on Negan’s face. 

He puts the pieces together, and he swears he feels the color drain right back from his face.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.” Negan cocks an eyebrow. “I just saved your life. You’re fucking welcome.”

Rick clears his throat. “…Thanks.” Further assessment of the area surrounding them tells Rick that Negan has somehow dragged them out of the fray and into a shed of some sort. It smells dry and musty, but so unlike the death the walkers smell like. Good choice, Negan. Good choice.

He doesn’t even remember what happened. But hey…he’s not dead.

Negan breaks the silence, and Rick can tell by the way his teeth show in a smirk that he’s about to say something that’s going to make Rick want to punch him. He still hasn’t entirely warmed up to Negan. It’s kind of hard to, given the circumstances.

“So, was it good?”

Rick kicks him in the shin. “Are you twelve? You saved my life–thank you. It _wasn’t_  a kiss.”

Negan just laughs, and Rick gets the feeling he expected that kind of a response. 

Asshole.


	6. Prompt: "I'm in love with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

“…I’m in love with you.”

It’s difficult to explain the effect those words have on Negan. With Lucille, there was never any realization that either of them had feelings for one another. It had just been a part of them–it had just been there. Negan had married her without a second thought, and he would do it all over again, a hundred times over.

But with Rick, it’s a lot more difficult. Their relationship didn’t exactly start out as a romantic one. Rick had been working for Negan, and Negan hadn’t even remotely been friendly in convincing him to do so. People had died–people Rick still cares about to this day had died.

Frankly, Negan doesn’t know where things ever changed. He’s always praised Rick’s keen ability to listen to him, as well as his ability to know what Negan wanted him to do next. He’s never failed to impress, even when Negan threatened him time and time again.

Negan doesn’t recall when they started spending more time together, but he does remember being stuck inside the back of a truck during a particularly violent hailstorm with Rick, and _something_ breaking in the tension between them and the both of them just bursting out laughing. He remembers a long night of conversation, and then he remembers never really wanting to be far away from Rick.

Apparently, Rick has felt the same, at least ever since that night.

Negan turns his head to look at the other man, and what he sees in those blue eyes freezes him right on the spot.

Rick is afraid of what he’s saying. He’s frightened, and the worst part is that Negan understands why. What’s going on right now? This was never supposed to be anything. There is too much standing in the way. There’s no fixing all of the things that have happened, and as Alexandria’s leader, Rick is going to take heavy fire if he acts on his feelings.

“I’m in love with you, and I know it’s wrong.” Rick swallows, and Negan can hear how dry his throat is. “I know I shouldn’t be, and I don’t remember when I started feelin’ this way, but I’m in love with you.” His gaze meets Negan’s, and he shakes his head slowly. “You killed Glenn, Abraham, Spencer…had Olivia shot. I should hate you. I should want to kill you. I thought I did.”

It’s Negan’s turn to swallow, and when he does, he finds he can’t look away from Rick’s eyes. He almost fears whatever the other man has to say next, because at this point, he’s not sure where Rick’s taking his words.

“But I love you. Every time you go back to Alexandria, it’s like there’s a piece missin’. I feel like hell for sayin’ that, because I’ve got Carl, and Judith, Michonne, Tara, Gabriel…I’m so lucky to have them, and everyone else. But I go home, and you go back to Sanctuary, and there’s…there’s a weight.”

This is yet another moment that’s so starkly different from the way things worked between Negan and Lucille. He feels the same way–god, he feels the same way. He doesn’t remember exactly when it started happening, but he knows it’s there. But for Lucille, it had been easy. They’d been in a different world–a different time–and they’d been able to decide to live together. They’d been able to decide to get married.

Rick, on the other hand, is just on the fence of unreachable and barely in his grasp. They _could_ be together, but dangerously so. Alexandria could turn on Rick, and the Saviors would start talking. Hilltop would start talking. The Kingdom would start talking. Like people always do in groups, one would revolt, and others would join. Chaos would ensue. Their relationship is _dangerous_.

“…I don’t want you to go back to Sanctuary.” Rick finally finishes, and Negan finds himself shaking his head. He swallows yet again, and then scoots in close. Places a hand on Rick’s thigh, and damn near melts when Rick brings one of his own up to clasp that hand. Their fingers lace. 

“Not gonna lie, Rick,” Negan starts, looking directly into the other man’s bright blue eyes, “that’s a strong fucking way to tell me how you feel. And I’m also not gonna lie that there’s something there on my side…between us. But you’re right. This shit…I don’t know how it’s gonna work.”

Rick nods, because he gets it. Negan sees those eyes on every part of him, as if Rick’s trying to decide just where the solution lies.

“I don’t know about you, though.” Negan continues, and he pulls Rick into his lap. He still looks terrified, but he doesn’t protest. “But I’m not about to sit here and be miserable. We don’t have to tell anyone if that makes shit easier for you. People can figure that shit out little by little, and eventually, it’s just gonna be something they all have to deal with. I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t care how stupid or dangerous or scary it is. I’m gonna fucking try. And you should try with me.”

Negan appreciates that Rick doesn’t question his ownership over Alexandria or the other communities, or the wives back at the Sanctuary. He probably knows this whole situation is going to require a lot of thought and planning, and that they both have to decide what exactly they want to do about it all. That understanding, that intelligence…it’s something Negan loves about him.

“I think what I’m trying to get at here is, well fuck…” Rick’s eyes meet Negan’s, and Negan clears his throat, trying to speak, but before he can get to the point, Rick leans in and kisses him. And there’s so much thought and emotion and fear and _pain_ in it that it saps the words right out of Negan’s mouth.

“You don’t have to say it.” Rick reassures. “We’ll figure somethin’ out, and if it works– _when_ it works, you can say it then.”

Negan melts like fountain chocolate, and it’s the best he can do to kiss Rick all over again.


	7. Prompt: "Oneshot where Rick rescues Negan after he stops breathing and it’s hella awkward."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one actually appears to be a flip-flop of chapter 5. Loved writing it, though!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

It happens too fast for Rick to even process what’s going on. One minute, he and Negan are lining up for alternating diving practice with their fellow swim teammates, and the next, Negan is underwater and he isn’t coming up. And from there, instincts take over. Instincts are what drive Rick into the water after him, and instincts are somehow what propel him straight to Negan, back up to the surface, and give him the strength to heft Negan’s unconscious body up onto the concrete edge of the pool.

It’s all a little much for a twelfth-grader to take, but Rick somehow manages anyway. Internally, he’s thanking his lucky stars for the fact that all members of the team are given the opportunity to learn CPR, because he’s using it now. He’s breathing air into Negan’s lungs, and after one, two, three attempts, the slightly older teen is suddenly coughing and spluttering and water is coming up like vomit.

Negan rolls over and heaves water onto the ground, and Rick breathes a sigh of relief. His heart is racing, but he can’t stop smiling as he realizes that _holy hell_ , he did it. Negan is breathing—albeit amidst a series of coughs and gags—and he’s alive, and Rick _saved_ him.

His smile widens as Negan turns to gawk at him. He opens his mouth to speak, to express his relief that Negan’s alright, but before he can say anything, Negan cuts him off.

“You seriously just _kissed me_?” The guy questions, eyebrow cocked. “In front of everyone, you started macking on me? I know I’m fine as hell, Rick, but _fuck_.”

Rick doesn’t hesitate to swing hard, hopefully bruising Negan’s shoulder, where his fist makes contact. And as Negan grips at the new injury, cursing out loud, the adrenaline wears off, and Rick feels the world around him go black.

\- - - - -

When Rick’s eyes open again, he recognizes the stained, off-white ceiling tiles of the nurse’s office. His head aches, and the nurse is nowhere to be seen. He inhales sharply and brings a hand to his forehead.

“Well hey there, boyfriend.”

Rick swears he hears his neck crack as he whips his head quickly to the side toward the offending voice. Negan’s lying in the bed a handful of feet away. Understandable, since the guy basically almost died from drowning. They probably have to keep him around just to make sure his lungs aren’t going to fill up with fluid of their own accord or something. Rick’s seen something about that online. Either way, what the hell is with this boyfriend crap?

“I saved your life, asshole.”

“I know.” Negan laughs. “And you jumped on the chance to do so. And after you got done making the fucking life right back out into me, you fainted. Like a movie-level swoon, Rick Grimes. Funny ass shit, right there.”

Rick doesn’t exactly wish that he hadn’t jumped into the water to save Negan, but he’s really starting to wish he’d have let someone else do it at this point. He spots a glass container of cotton balls on the shelf across the room and is genuinely contemplating going for it so he can launch it right at Negan’s stupid head.

“You’re _welcome_.” Rick snarls, before he pushes himself to his feet. Blackness bites at his vision, though, and when the sharp pain in his skull returns, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “CPR doesn’t make us boyfriends, either. Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, trust me.” Negan retorts, still grinning that stupid Cheshire Cat grin. “If I could, I would. I’d fuck my brains out.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“But I’m serious, though.” Negan continues. “I mean about the kiss-CPR thing.” 

Rick sighs, waiting to see where he’s going with this one.

“I called you boyfriend because it’s cute how quickly you jumped in to save my ass. You gotta care something fierce to put your own life on the line.”

“Anyone would have done it.” Rick answers back gruffly. “It’s the right thing to do.”

“Bullshit.” Negan’s still smirking, though Rick notices his tone has grown a little darker. “Not everyone believes in that shit, Rick. You’re just a nice guy, and if you ask nicely, we _could_ be boyfriends. When I said you didn’t have to kiss me in front of everyone, I literally meant in front of everyone. Didn’t mean you couldn’t kiss me somewhere else.”

“Damn it, Negan.” Rick goes for his pillow this time, launching it to Negan, who catches it expertly and just laughs at him. “It was CPR.”

“I know.” Negan snickers. “It’s just fun to make you mad. You get so flustered, and it’s cute.”

Rick throws himself back onto the bed in frustration.

But he does find himself curious to know what dating a guy like Negan would be like.


	8. Prompt: "Why do you have my bra in your hand?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by abaseballbatdoesnthaveapussy on Tumblr.

“Why is my bra in your hand?”

To be completely honest, Rick doesn’t even know why he’s got a bra in his hand, let alone the fact that it’s Negan’s. He’d just been working on sorting through both their things, as the two of them had recently moved in together . It isn’t like Rick had gone into this with the intention, nor the expectation, to find a bra.

But here he is, holding one. He’s confused, but holds it out to Negan nonetheless.

“Your bra?” The bra doesn’t look like it could fit around Negan’s chest, so Rick’s a little surprised his boyfriend is calling it his own.

“Er…well, Lucille’s.” Negan admits. “Don’t really have it in me to part with it.” He scratches the back of his head. “You’re probably close to finding her nightgown too.”

Rick looks up at him, feeling a pang of guilt for going through Negan’s things. He’d just been trying to organize everything, but now, he sort of wishes he’d left Negan’s stuff for him to go through. 

“It’s the last one she wore before the, uh, final visit to the hospital.”

“You don’t have to tell me anymore if it’s too painful.” Rick says, and he notices the appreciative smile grazing Negan’s lips as the other man shakes his head.

“Thanks, Rick. Dunno what the fuck I did to deserve you.” Negan moves in close, kisses Rick’s forehead, and Rick slides his arms around his boyfriend’s waist, pulling him in for a hug. “But if there’s anyone I’m gonna tell, it’s you.”

“I love you.” Rick sighs, as he tips his head up and steals a soft kiss.

“Love you too, babe.” Negan responds against his boyfriend’s lips. 

They spend the entire rest of the day unpacking everything and talking about what each sentimental item means to them.


	9. Prompt: "What did that asshole do to you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by aokamitahafu on Tumblr.

Negan’s eyes are wide with a fury Rick doesn’t think he’s ever seen before, which is saying a lot, considering how quickly the man can traverse a series of different emotions.

But this is new and completely foreign to Rick. Negan’s advancing on him like he just insulted the guy’s mother or something, and Rick finds himself actually recoiling and bracing for an impact he’s starting to think is inevitable. He supposes he’ll ask questions later.

“What the fuck did that asshole _do_  to you?”

Rick and Aaron have just gotten back from a run, where they encountered a lone survivor who hadn’t held any interest in anything other than taking everything the two men had found so far. He was a big tank of a guy, so not only did it take both Rick and Aaron to take him down, but the man had left quite a mark on them both.

Aaron’s currently at his and Eric’s home, nursing a series of bruises and a gunshot wound to the shoulder. Rick’s got a rapidly-swelling bruised left eye, a wide split on the side of his lower lip, and goddamn if it doesn’t hurt to put any weight on his left leg. He’s exhausted, but he’s definitely been through worse.

But now that he thinks about it, this is the first time Negan’s seen him like this. He’s seen him in basically every other situation, but beaten up and limping back to camp? Not so much.

“He’s dead. Doesn’t matter what he did anymore.” Rick answers, and he finds some relief in the way Negan softens as he scans over Rick’s face with his eyes. He doesn’t seem satisfied with Rick’s response, but his focus appears to be more centered on the injuries Rick has incurred. 

“Wish he wasn’t, so I could hunt the sorry fucker down and feed him his own goddamn eyeballs.” It’s interesting, the way Negan can say these things while gently grazing his thumb along the bruising on Rick’s swollen eye and cheek. But there are a lot of interesting things Rick’s learning Negan is capable of. Ever since the two of them decided to pursue a more intimate relationship, he’s been learning something new about Negan every single day.

“It’s fine, Negan. Just help me get back home, okay?” Rick raises a hand up and cups the one on his face. He turns his head into the contact and kisses the palm of Negan’s hand. The look on the larger man’s face is the very example of concern and sympathy–something Rick most definitely isn’t used to seeing on this guy. But for some reason, he likes that. It’s almost as if this is a reaction reserved for the people Negan cares most about–reserved for Rick. Selfishly, he drinks in the feeling of being so important to the other man, and his chest feels oddly, pleasantly swollen at the thought.

“Alright, okay…yeah.” Negan concedes. Reluctantly, he lets go of Rick’s face and instead guides the shorter man’s arm over his shoulders. He curls his free hand around Rick’s waist, and then starts helping him walk toward his house. “But you’re taking it easy for a while. That motherfucker had better be glad he’s dead…”


	10. Prompt: "Kiss Meme - I'm Sorry"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

It’s really no big deal. Rick goes on runs all the time. He’s used to being out for a while. But when Negan’s demand for one lasts far longer than anyone could have expected, an anticipated two days turns into a week, and Rick finds himself face-to-face with a very strange-looking Negan. Is that what concern looks on his face? Rick kind of likes it.

“We didn’t find much.” Rick admits. “So I kept searchin’. Figured that’s what you’d want me to do.”

Negan cups one side of Rick’s face, and he finds himself staring up into eyes that look almost entirely different. Is Negan regretting sending Rick out like that?

“You’re always so quick to do the right fucking thing, Rick.” Negan responds. “And yeah, I probably would have expected that. But I thought you were dead.”

Rick knows Negan’s opinion of him has softened considerably as of late, but he can’t hide the shock on his face when he realizes that Negan’s concern is for his well-being as opposed to the results of his supply run.

“I’ll send more people with you next time. Or hell, maybe I’ll go with you. Just don’t fucking scare me like that, alright?”

Rick, uncertain how to respond, nods slowly, and then he feels Negan’s hand on his shoulder. He has enough time to meet the other’s gaze just once more, before Negan’s lips are on his, and he’s kissing Rick with the most incredible gentleness. He can almost feel emotion washing off of Negan and coming into contact with him in waves. As their lips move, all the unspoken worry is absorbed into Rick’s skin, and his breath hitches at the overwhelming nature of it all.

Negan finally pulls away. He lets out a sigh, cards his fingers through Rick’s hair, and backs up so that he can look the smaller man in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.”


	11. Prompt: "I'm not jealous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

“I’m not jealous.”

In reality, he knows he has every right to be. After all, look at that fucking banana split, and here Rick is, about to snarf it all down on his own. The fuck kind of boyfriend does that shit?

Negan’s staring across the table at Rick from over the dish. He’s got the soda he purchased, and Rick’s just grinning back at him like it’s fucking nothing.

“You don’t have to be ashamed.” Rick teases as he unwraps one of the two plastic spoons he’d picked up from the little creamery’s condiment booth, and then gets straight to work on another. Negan imagines he’s prepared to dive into his treat headfirst if he’s decided he needs two spoons for it. In a way, he doesn’t fault the guy for that one–the banana split is huge, and even for Negan, it’d be a challenge to decide exactly where to start. “I’d be jealous if I were you, too.”

“I’m not fucking jealous, Rick.” Negan growls. “It’s your damn voucher–you earned it being Big Sheriff Badass over there at the precinct. Can’t be mad at you for that.”

“But you can be jealous.” Rick’s teasing and Negan knows that, but goddamn that little turdtapper–he kind of just wants to reach over, pull the banana out and stuff the whole thing into his mouth, just to spite Rick.

And he almost does. But first, he opens his mouth to speak and suddenly finds it stuffed with a mouthful of cold ice cream, smooth syrup, and the interesting texture of banana. He freezes on the spot, eyes bugging out wide, and then swallows the bite.

Rick looks like nothing if not amused. “Did you really think I was gonna try and eat this whole thing by myself? Come on, Negan…” He offers his spoon out to Negan, laughing. “I wasn’t about to drag you to this place with me if I didn’t plan to share. Now, eat up.”

Negan almost feels embarrassed. After all, he was about to claim that entire banana for himself. Damn Rick and his odd silence and unreadable generosity. 

“…Thanks.”


	12. All For Him - See chapter summary for prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From ocegion on Tumblr: "Although I'm STILL catching up with the comics I know one of the covers for upcoming numbers has Negan apparently going back to power. Adding that now he's basically a lovesick pup for Rick, imagine Negan using all his cunningness and manipulation abilities to control mobs and just making EVERYTHING for Rick's benefit. Basically Negan using the Saviors with the sole purpose of pampering and spoiling Rick and giving him a hopeful searching look for approval every few minutes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ocegion on Tumblr.

It’s all for him.

Ever since Rick decided to spare Negan’s life, everything he has done has been for him.

And he doesn’t feel bad for it at all.

He owes Rick so much. Owes him for opening his eyes, for helping him to realize who he was and what the end of the world had made him into. He owes him for sparing him after all of that, and for giving him another chance at a life. For hearing him out in that house when Alexandria had been overrun.

For letting him have a chance at calling the shots again.

Negan has his Saviors back. It’s not in the same vast numbers he last recalls having them at, and it’s not with his trusty Lucille at his side, but that’s okay. In the past handful of years, Negan has done a lot of growing, and a lot of thinking and realizing, and numbers aren’t really all he needs right now.

He thanks Rick in little ways. When visiting Alexandria, he asks how things are going, makes sure Rick’s keeping his ducks in a row. _Oh, Andrea’s under the weather?_ Here, Negan will pitch in a little before heading back. _Fences need rebuilding?_ Negan’s got a guy for that.

Hell, he’s even gone so far as to bring a little extra supplies in trades every now and then. Rick’s not one hundred percent trusting of him, but he’ll be goddamned if he lets things stay that way. One day, Rick’s going to look at Negan, smile widely, and be _proud_ of who he’s become.

At the very least, Negan swears he’s never going to let Rick regret having ever given him a second chance.

Here’s a secret: Negan’s absolutely batshit crazy in love with Rick. He learned his lesson with Lucille–never take that shit for granted. If you feel that strongly about any one person, you hold onto that for dear life. You never let it go.

And Rick’s jaded. Rick’s the type of person who has seen loss, has _lost himself_ , almost people, _actually_ lost people. It doesn’t take much for Rick to contemplate making a few backward steps and decide someone is a lost cause.

So, as Negan gives his Saviors, the Alexandrians, and people from regions all around a speech about what the Sanctuary is now, he catches himself scanning the crowd for Rick. Is he doing this right? Is he being too much of an asshole? Too commanding? Or is he doing a good job? Is he learning from what Rick taught him?

He closes off his speech, and then his eyes finally spot the man, standing next to Andrea. He’s watching intently, and as Negan hops down to make his approach, he swears he sees the corners of Rick’s mouth quirk upward.


	13. Prompt: "I had a nightmare, and I just had to make sure you were okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

When Rick wakes up to a harsh nudging on his shoulder, he honestly expects to be met with the frightened eyes of his daughter. It’s been storming all night, after all, and a three-year-old doesn’t handle bad weather well in general. This wouldn’t be the first night that Rick has pulled Judith into his bed with himself and Negan to ease her fears a bit.

What he doesn’t expect is to be met with hazel eyes instead of blue ones.

Negan has rough nights on occasion, so he gets up during the course of the night every now and then. It isn’t uncommon for Rick to wake up to Negan crawling back into bed, and to feel him atop him, sneaking a quick kiss or an even quicker heavy petting session. But when Rick opens his eyes this time, it isn’t to a honey-thick smirk or because he’s heard the low, sultry rumble of Negan’s flirtatious laughter.

He looks scared.

“…Hey…” Rick frowns. “Negan…what’s wrong?”

Negan’s lips go flat, and his eyebrows furrow down. It’s like he’s trying to stop himself from either vomiting or screaming. Rick watches him push himself up into a sitting position, following him with his eyes. Negan grunts, sighs, looks away, and when he redirects his focus back to Rick, his expression has morphed completely. He looks lost.

“You haven’t been feeling sick or anything lately, have you?”

Rick frowns. “…No. Unless you count allergies, I guess–”

“No dizziness, pain, even so much as a fucking quiver of nausea?”

“Babe…I’m fine. What is this?” Rick reaches out and curls his fingers around Negan’s hand. He notices how sweaty the larger man’s slightly bigger palms are. Negan returns the grip without hesitation.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Rick.” In the darkness of their room, Negan looks serious–almost threateningly so.

Rick just sighs and scoots in close–close enough that when he looks into Negan’s eyes, the man can see everything he’s trying to convey. “I’m just fine, Negan. If somethin’ was wrong, I swear you’d be the first to know…okay?” After all, Rick knows what happened to Negan’s previous spouse. Lucille had died so quickly from her cancer that Negan has voiced on multiple occasions that he still suspects she had been keeping her symptoms from him until she no longer could. That train of thought tells him exactly what Negan’s getting at.

“Yeah.” Negan scrubs frustration away from his face with his free hand. “It’s just…I had this dream, and I had to make sure you were okay.”

Rick’s relationship with Negan always has been and still is a fast-moving one. They met when Rick had been called to an auto accident. He arrived to an altercation Negan was having with a driver who had sideswiped him at a slow-moving intersection. Rick couldn’t understand why one man was getting so upset over an accident that barely damaged his vehicle, and as he diffused the situation, he realized that this was so much more than just a car to Negan.

Which led Rick, fueled by selfish curiosity, to invite himself further into Negan’s life. He initially brushed all the flirtatious comments off in favor of learning who the man behind the wheel of the dented Impala was. But it was only a matter of time before Negan had worked his way under Rick’s skin. It took him one week to learn the story of Lucille, and two weeks to succumb to Negan’s advances. At the one month mark, when Negan was introduced to Rick’s kids, Rick fell in love.

It’s been two years now, and they’re married, and the very picture of a happy family. Negan works so incredibly well with Judith and Carl that his otherwise abrasive behavior doesn’t really even matter. Rick has learned to love him, even when he’s comparing what he wants to do to Rick that night to Star Wars, or not so subtly rubbing his clothed dick on him, or bitching about the asshole who cut him off in  the parking lot at the grocery store.

Point is, he’s not going anywhere, and he’s sure as shit not about to get sick and die on Negan.

So, as Rick listens to what the other man has to say, he slides his arms around Negan’s waist, presses soft kisses to his shoulder, and reminds him that he’s alive and well. It takes some time, but sitting up on the bed eventually becomes lying down on the bed, and with Rick’s head on Negan’s chest and Negan’s arm around Rick’s frame, they are both able to settle down that night for the rest of their sleep.

At least, until a particularly loud clap of thunder sends Judith sprinting for their bed.


	14. Prompt: "You need to wake up, because I can't do this without you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by rainyquot on Tumblr.

“You need to wake up, because I can’t do this without you.”

Negan’s cold all over. From the very pits of his innermost organs all the way out to his fingernails and eyelashes, he’s cold. And to make matters worse, it’s his own fucking fault.

Maybe he was being selfless, or maybe he thought he’d just come up with some ingenious horde-herding method that was somehow going to work flawlessly. What he hadn’t accounted for was that the winter hadn’t been around long enough for him to pull his little stunt.

But in his defense, he had been trying to think quickly. In his mind, all he had been able to process was that Rick and his people had worked so hard to bring Alexandria to where it is now, and that they wouldn’t last five seconds without Rick alive, and that Negan needed to do whatever it had taken to make sure Rick came back in one piece.

Alexandria as a community has been working hard to fortify the walls after everything that had happened with the Whisperers and the remaining Saviors. And it isn’t just Alexandria, either. It’s the Hilltop, and the Kingdom, and even the Sanctuary. Everyone needs to make their defenses stronger, just in case there’s more, or in case a herd that big decides to show up again. The war against the Whisperers was a huge red flag that something like that could happen at any time, even unprompted.

The decision was to build a second layer of defense around all of the communities. The process has lasted months, and is still an ongoing thing. Even with the harshest winter since the apocalypse settling its way in, everyone has been working hard to get their homes protected. 

That was what Rick, Negan, and Andrea were doing before everything went sideways. The herd was small, but they were still outnumbered. In the distance was a lake, frozen over by the cold weather. Negan’s idea was simple, really–draw the walkers to the lake, lead them onto its cold-as-fuck surface, get the fuck away before their weight broke the ice, and watch those fuckers sink right on in. The cold would make it impossible for them to move quickly enough to escape, and most of them would become useless and sink to the bottom, to be dealt with later.

And it had worked at first. Rick had been screaming that Negan was an idiot, and Andrea trying to help lead them even though she agreed with Rick. The infected all meandered stupidly right onto the frozen lake, and Negan had planned on making his escape soon enough.

But then the ice had cracked beneath his feet, and he had sunken almost hilariously quickly into the water.

He doesn’t remember being rescued, but he can hear Rick’s voice now. Either he’s unconscious, or his body is too frozen to move or speak, because Rick’s pleading for him to wake up, while Andrea decides aloud that they need to get back to Alexandria. Negan can’t respond. He can’t even so much as open his eyes. He doesn’t feel weak–just _stuck_. Stuck, and cold, and fucking frustrated that his genius plan had ultimately resulted in them trashing their fortification attempts for the day.

But there is literally jack shit Negan can do about it for now, so he succumbs to the cold and the discomfort and lets his consciousness fade entirely.

When he comes to again, it’s not as cold. His fingertips and limbs and even the tip of his nose ache dully as the warmth of…a fireplace, he thinks…thaws out his frozen body. It burns in a way that reminds Negan of climbing into a warm car after scraping ice off your windshield with no gloves on. But he’s warm, and he’s not dead, and he’ll be goddamned lucky if he doesn’t lose a limb to all this bullshit.

He can move, though. it starts in his fingers, but when he realizes his wrist works, he moves it too. And then his arm, and then the other, and then his toes, feet, legs–holy shit, he’s alright!

His eyes snap open, and he’s met immediately to Rick’s wide eyes. Wide, tired eyes. Andrea’s watching from nearby, and they both offer a smile and a relieved sigh when they see that their village idiot has come back to the real world. 

“Holy shit.” Rick’s voice breaks a little, and his flesh hand is so warm when it finds Negan’s arm that he actually jumps from the feeling. His nerves sear with the sudden movement, as they still adjust to the warmth of what Negan can now tell is the house Rick and Andrea share. “No, seriously–holy _shit_.”

Negan laughs, and he hears the rasp in his own voice when he does so. He doesn’t know how long he’s been out, but he finds it hard to believe it’s been too long, considering he’d have died of hypothermia if so. But the way Andrea and Rick are looking at him, and how difficult it is to move right now tells otherwise.

“You should be dead.” Andrea says with an odd laugh and half-smile. “It’s like you’ve got nine lives.”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna run out if you don’t stop with things like this.” Rick adds, gently popping Negan on the face with his hand, before he withdraws it. “But I’m so glad you’re alive. Jesus, Negan, I really thought you were a goner.”

Negan rolls his eyes. “C’mon. Look at who the fuck you’re talking to.”

Rick just smiles. “Even with you running your mouth like that, I still feel like I could kiss you right now.”

Negan glances across the room to Andrea, who just shrugs, still wearing that lazy smile of hers. With her approval, he turns a little smirk up to Rick. 

“No one’s stopping you.”


	15. Prompt: "Teach me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by hatterized on Tumblr.

In Rick’s defense, he really _is_  trying to keep up. Negan’s moving so quickly, though, that he can hardly keep up. But the older man has insisted that the fast pace is really the only pace one can learn how to properly play ping pong. It makes sense, if Rick thinks about how you have to respond quickly to get anywhere with it. The game itself is fast-paced, and incredibly simple.

But that doesn’t explain how Negan is so goddamned good at it. Rick’s putting up a good fight, if he does say so, himself. But he’s just not good enough. They get into a rhythm, and then Negan backhands the ball across the table and sends it flying in some other direction. When Rick expects it to bob, it weaves, and he often makes a glorious display of missing the shot. A couple of times, he’s ended up on the ground.

“I take it you suck ass at tennis, too.” Negan jokes, earning himself a sharp glare from Rick’s side of the table.

“A regular tennis court is more than three feet wide.” Rick sneers. “I have time to react.”

Negan bursts out laughing. “You’re a fucking cop!” Rick watches as he rounds the table and starts toward him. “There’s no way in hell the Academy doesn’t have ‘good reaction time’ as a condition for getting your damn badge. I swear to fuck, if it’s not up there right along the fact that you have to get tazed, I will try to suck my own dick.”

Rick just shrugs. “You probably could, honestly.”

“Maybe.” Negan thinks aloud, before he makes a very obvious attempt at testing Rick’s reaction time. So obvious, in fact, that Rick has him on his stomach on the ground, a knee in his back an an arm folded behind him, in seconds. It’s difficult to tell if he was moving slowly on purpose or not, but judging by the grunts of protest emitting from Negan’s mouth, he didn’t expect to actually end up incapacitated.

“Of course it’s on there, Negan.” Rick says proudly, with a roll of his eyes. “Table tennis just isn’t.”

“Jesus fuck!” Negan groans, before Rick releases him and stands up. They both get back to their feet. “You ever actually have to use one of those on the job?”

“Not all the time, but yeah.” Rick cracks his neck, before moving to retrieve the ping pong ball he’d missed earlier. 

“That’s awesome as _shit_ , Rick Grimes. Do that again and you might earn yourself a fuck on this here ping pong table. In the meantime…” Negan looks up, and his eyes meet Rick’s just as he stands up from picking the ball up off the floor. There’s an uncharacteristically sheepish smile on the man’s face, before he speaks up.

“Teach me?”


	16. Burnt Dinner - see chapter summary for prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really a prompt, but definitely a drabble. Ocegion on Tumblr asked: "Imagine Negan deciding to teach Rick how to cook because he's not willing to let him poison the children when he's busy at the Sanctuary, and he /of course/ ends up pressing behind Rick against the counter, guiding Rick's hands with his own and pressing his crotch into Rick's ass while he acts like cutting an onion is the sexiest shit ever"

It’s the least Rick can do to keep focusing on the task at hand, because he can feel everything from the low rumble of Negan’s husky breathing all the way to the heat of his hands on Rick’s own. Negan’s fingers trail back up along Rick’s arms, giving his shoulders a few quick massages, before they settle back atop Rick’s fingers.

“You are literal shit at this, Rick.” Negan purrs, erection pressing right against the cleft of Rick’s ass, and damn if this man somehow doesn’t know how to make an insult sound like the most arousing thing in the world. It makes chopping onions even harder than before, what with Rick’s body aching to roll back against the one pushed against him and his cock straining between himself and the counter. 

“You’re supposed to do it in pieces, like this.” Negan’s trying to show Rick how to dice just a little way in, but Rick honestly isn’t focusing by now. In his mind, he’s already swept the cutting board and knife away, his pants are at his ankles, and Negan is fucking him hard and deep, all the while lecturing him about his horrid food preparation. Every now and then, he’ll make a really vulgar reference to ‘special sauce’ or about how he could find a good way to repurpose one of those cucumbers, but with his dick sheathed balls-deep in Rick’s ass, his blue-eyed beauty has no problem finding a way to get past the commentary.

In reality, Rick has gone limp and just let Negan take control, and Negan’s praising him for being a ‘good boy’. By now, meat is being thrown into a heated skillet and the smell of good food is starting to fill the air. In Rick’s mind, Negan’s slamming so hard into him that his waist is going to come back bruised from the impact with the counter, but Rick doesn’t mind, because he’s close…so fucking close. Negan’s teeth are on the back of his neck, tongue raking along goosebump-ridden skin, and Rick’s going to lose it any minute, not that he minds–

“Shit, this actually smells good.” Negan’s voice pulls Rick from his train of thought right as he lets spill a needy moan and, er, a little extra something. When he finishes, he’s flushed and embarrassed and of fucking _course_  Negan notices. He’s got one hand on Rick’s thigh, and Rick can feel the moisture of his release trailing down along his leg and mingling with the soft pressure of Negan’s fingertips on his jeans.

He outright laughs, like the jackass he is.

“Fucking _look at you_ , Rick!” Negan barks. “Haven’t even gotten to the foreplay and you’re creaming yourself like a virgin. Color me real fucking impressed.” He sucks one of Rick’s earlobes between his teeth and chuckles harshly against the flushed skin. “Here I was, just trying to show you how to make a meal that doesn’t look like it’s going to come alive and devour your children, and you’re over here being a little horndog. Goddamn.”

Rick burns supper that night.


	17. Prompt: "Your hair is so soft."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ""Your hair is so soft" - Negan as the creepy flight attendant who can't stop touching passenger Rick's hair everytime he passes by with the drink cart"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by losercowboy on Tumblr.

In his defense, he’s damn good-looking while he does it.

But full offense, he’s being a fucking asshole.

Every time Rick hears footsteps, he finds himself instinctively ducking, because about the past six times the flight attendant has walked by, he’s reached down and run his fingers across his hair. Rick’s made a point to tell him to stop, but he either thinks it’s a joke or just doesn’t care, because he’s not stopped since. Rick has tried everything from being polite to shooting him icy glares to straight-up demanding for him to stop. And the jerk just laughs and walks away.

This flight doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to end.

Rick figures he could notify the other attendant. He’s already seen the nametag on the asshole’s neatly-pressed shirt: Negan. Easy enough to remember. Rick doesn’t fancy himself salty enough to go and call human resources on him or something, but it’d be damn wonderful if someone would put a stop to his antics. So far, all Rick sees in response to it are the chattering passengers, some of them snickering away at it.

Rick swears to god, if this Negan guy gets a high-five from someone…

Judith is fast asleep in her seat, leaned up against Carl, who is also oblivious. His attention is focused out the window, on the music he’s listening to. Rick’s alone in this battle, and maybe he’s okay with that. The last thing he needs is his son giggling at him about how he let himself get harassed by a plucky flight attendant. A la “ _My dad, the cop!”_ or some shit like that.

Still, he wouldn’t get too embarrassed if someone helped him out at least a little.

He hears the footsteps again, and instead of ducking this time, catches Negan’s wrist in his hand. He’s surprised how quickly he yanks the larger man down to eye level. Negan only appears shocked by the gesture for a moment, and then he’s back to what Rick has learned at supersonic speed is his usual, smirky self.

“C’mon, man.” Rick growls. “I’m just tryin’ to get through this flight. I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re gonna have to get over it. From the looks of it, you’re an adult, and adults _don’t do this.”_

He lets go of Negan’s wrist, but the man doesn’t move from where Rick has him. He just laughs. Of _course_ he laughs. Because clearly, they’re still in fucking grade school.

“What’s your name?” Negan suddenly asks.

It catches Rick off guard so abruptly that he ends up letting out the dumbest “ _Huh?”_ in the world. And for some reason, he cares about that a whole hell of a lot right now.

“Your name, dooflunkey. Tell me you’re fucking name.” Negan deadpans, still grinning with his teeth bared.

“…Rick.” The smaller man finally manages to answer. “Rick Grimes.”

“That is so fitting I’ve half a mind to think you’re bullshitting me.” Negan responds, before he laughs yet again. “But here’s the deal, _Rick_. I can’t help myself–your hair just looked so soft, and once I got started…well, fuck me running sideways, I couldn’t stop!”

Rick wants to hit him. He’s sitting in his chair, probably looking like he’d just eaten an entire teaspoon of salt, all because he really wants to just reach out and bloody this stupid jackass’ nose. He’s starting to feel like he’s got indigestion, too, and he’s gonna blame every last ounce of that on this guy as well.

“It’s called self-control, _Negan_.” Rick sneers.

\- - - - -

Negan actually does stop his assault on Rick’s hair after that. But he doesn’t stop smirking. Every time he passes, he flashes Rick a grin that hits him with an actual impact, which is all kinds of alarming. Especially considering the guy was just all-but bullying Rick not long ago.

And here he is now, meeting those hazel eyes with a mixture of confusion and apprehension, body tensing every time Negan’s lips curl upward. And maybe Rick’s just looking too far into it (because he knows he’s giving this Negan guy an unhealthy amount of thought), but there’s almost a sense of victory in the asshole’s expression. Like he won, even though Rick made him stop.

Suddenly, Rick’s angry again. He tries to brush it off, but when the attendants come down the aisles with carts of food and drink, Negan inevitably presents himself at Rick’s side once more and that anger becomes impossible to ignore.

At least, until Negan slips him a can of pringles and a coke, winks at him, and asks the next passenger if they would like anything.

The snacks go to Carl, but Rick doesn’t care. He’s too hung up on the fact that he’s pretty damn sure his flight attendant has been hitting on him this entire fucking time. And the hilarious part about it is that Rick is kind of okay with that.


	18. Prompt: "I must've picked up your coffee by mistake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

The shop is so busy that Rick would have left, had he not already paid for his coffee. Now, he’s stuck waiting for it through the crowd, and with most of the seats occupied, Rick’s left standing. He contemplates the last little booth table, but a college kid clutching a laptop seems to need it more, so he doesn’t worry too much about it. 

Most of the people seated are waiting for their orders, so once the rush is gone, Rick imagines the shop will clear back out. He’s kind of hoping for that, because with Carl being in his senior year of high school and Judith attending her first ever day of kindergarten today, he kind of needs a moment out of the house to collect himself.

He finds a spot in between a couple of booths and leans against the wall, there. He’s not far from one of the big store windows, and outside, he can see traffic moving about. He’d probably have had more luck if he hadn’t tried to get his drink during the lunch rush, but oh well. It’s not like he’s got anywhere to go right now, having taken the day off for Judith’s first day of school. He’s not taking his chances, because on Carl’s first day, he panicked and wet his pants halfway through and Rick had to come help him get changed, which had turned into an hour and a half at the school reminding Carl that he was going to be okay. 

Judith is roughly three times more dramatic than Carl, so Rick figures it’s a good call, taking the first day off. He wonders how she’s doing. Is she having fun with the other kids? Is her teacher nice? What is she going to learn on her first day of school? The questions go on and on, and it occurs to Rick that his children are officially starting to grow up. In a year, Carl’s going to be away at college, and it’s just going to be Rick and Judith, and even though he adores his daughter with every bit of his heart, he feels like it’s going to be pretty lonely. 

On top of that, raising Judith is going to be totally different from raising Carl. Carl’s all ‘do-it-yourself’ attitude, determined to get a job and a car and do all his college applications himself. Judith, on the other hand, has always been more reliant on Rick for things. She knows how to tie her shoes and brush her teeth and put her clothes on, but she still tries to get her daddy to do those tasks for her. But what she lacks in motivation, she makes up for in an intelligence that baffles Rick each and every day.

He’s so proud of his children.

“Hey.” A voice pulls Rick out of his wandering thoughts, and when he looks up to acknowledge said voice, he damn near shrinks into his skin. The man standing before him is taller than him, with broader shoulders and a grin that looks so natural on him it’s baffling. He sports a leather jacket with a white undershirt and dark pants, and he’s also extending a coffee out to Rick. As he holds it out, he tilts to the side in curiosity. “You’re Rick, right?”

Rick nods slowly. It unnerves him how drawn he is to this guy right away. Or hell, maybe he just needs the distraction from being a parent for a solid few minutes. 

“I’m Negan.” The man continues. “And I must’ve picked up your coffee by mistake. Which is kind of win-win, because you look like you could use some company, and I happen to not have any company, myself. We’re two peas in a fucking pod, you and I.”

Rick notices when he accepts the proffered coffee that his name is indeed on the cup in big purple handwriting. He doesn’t remember hearing the barista call his name, but he also doesn’t remember them hollering _any_  names, which is a huge testament to the fact that Rick really has been out of it. 

He also notices that Negan’s clutching his own coffee as well. Maybe the guy came back for his afterward and sought out Rick once he had both, or maybe this was intentional. It leads Rick to wonder if this man’s flirting with him, and it surprises him how little he minds. Again, Nest Egg Syndrome, he supposes.

“So, what do you say, Rick?” Negan speaks up again, and Rick swallows a sip of his coffee. It’s still warm, which he takes some relief in, even though it’s not remotely cold outside. “Go for a walk with this old bastard? Don’t make me fucking beg…”

The coffee shop is still swarming with people, and as soon as a seat is emptied, someone else takes it. Rick figures if he’s going to be on his feet, it’d probably be better spent walking. So…

“Why not?” A smile creeps onto Rick’s lips, before he takes another drink of his coffee and he and Negan start out the door. The coffee shop bell dings above their heads as they exit.


	19. Prompt: "If you die, I'm gonna kill you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

The shit has hit the fan. It has hit hard, and sent festering shit-shrapnel flying off in all different directions. And now, Rick has to go and pick up the pieces before they damage someone.

This is all part of being a cop. Rick knows he signed up for it the minute he entered the Police Academy. It’s not usually his part to get involved with serial murders unless directed to by a detective or other investigative group, but when the murders are so close together that people are dying on an almost daily basis, he’s really got to keep his eyes open. 

Patrols are about to become longer and more careful, and special ops units have been called in. Schools are under heavy security, and parents are encouraged to not leave kids–even teenagers–at home alone. For that reason, Carl and Judith are with Maggie and Glenn.

Even Negan, who has proclaimed proudly just how much of a badass his boyfriend is, brandishing the police officer title around like a diamond engagement ring, isn’t crazy about Rick being on the job right now. He wavers back and forth between picking on Rick about his ‘first real case’ (even though Rick has had some pretty interesting cases in the past) and telling him they should pack the kids up and go on vacation.

And selfishly, Rick has actually entertained the idea. How easy would it be to just disappear until the case is over and he doesn’t have to worry about whether his kids make it to and from school alright? He dreads every phone call from Maggie or Glenn, and even gets nervous when Negan so much as texts him. A vacation would be nice, and safe, and all-around perfect.

But he knows he can’t do that. This is what he signed up for.

This morning is, for some reason, particularly tough for both Negan and Rick. The latter has already finished getting ready for work and is gathering up his things to leave. Negan’s half-dressed with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, but he’s taking his time getting ready, himself.

“You’re gonna be late, Negan.” Rick says absently as he finishes off a glass of water and moves toward the door.

“This isn’t my first fucking rodeo, Rick–I’ll be fine.” Negan shakes his head, then spits into the kitchen sink and rinses. He’s literal shit at staying still, so he often deviates from the bathroom halfway through anything that doesn’t involve sitting on the toilet bowl or standing in the shower. Either way, once he’s done, he slides up behind Rick and pulls him in close, chin resting on the other man’s shoulder. “You about to head out?”

“Yeah.” Rick leans back into the contact, sighing pleasantly. Considering what he’s about to go out into, he appreciates this moment. He turns in Negan’s grip and looks him in the eyes. “Be careful going into work today, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Watch your ass and all that shit.” Negan laughs, another thing that Rick takes comfort in. He doesn’t pull back when the other man rests his forehead against his own. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

Rick chuckles a little himself, and then gives his boyfriend a chaste kiss. “Good luck with that, Negan. Have a good day at work.”

And like that, he’s gone, out into the fray. The unexpected gives him an anxiety not unlike swallowing a giant gulp of soda wrong, but he knows that he’s just got to get through a handful of hours, and then it’s back at home with his family, getting through the mess day by day.


	20. Prompt: "Hey. I'm with you, okay? Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr.

It’s hard to forget that Negan’s actually human sometimes. He does such a fine job of concealing his own personal feelings behind a colorful vernacular and grinchly smirk that most people see him on an entirely different plane. Almost as if he’s invincible, untouchable, and unfathomably powerful. 

But in reality, he’s not. He’s just…Negan. 

Rick’s the first to admit that he’d seen Negan this way for the longest time, too. He’d tiptoed around what he did and said out of fear of losing loved ones for looking at Negan the wrong way or saying the wrong thing. He’d side-eyed the Saviors while just avoiding eye contact altogether with Negan. If he just behaved like he was supposed to, Alexandria would be safe. Scavenge, protect his people, obey, and then repeat. Like a one-hit wonder on the radio.

It would have continued that way if not for the fact that Negan had decided Rick would benefit from a visit to the Sanctuary. He probably wanted to make sure Rick really did know his place, but what he hadn’t expected was for the guy to fit in as well as he did. What had started out as attempts to tell Rick what to do around the massive factory had eventually become the two men busting one another’s balls, and Rick actually having a decent time there.

More than just a handful of visits later and you’ve got the situation at present–a Rick Grimes who doesn’t think Negan’s as horrible as he lets on. One who has long-since learned where the Sanctuary leader comes from. Who understands why Negan’s decided that humanity is all but fucked, and who threw his own humanity out the window ages ago.

Or, well, tried to.

At present, they’re in Alexandria, and Negan’s pacing back and forth in Rick’s living room. Rick doesn’t know what’s triggered this sudden break in resolve, but he knows Negan isn’t alright, either. He sits, watching the other man walk holes into his carpet, with a concern the Rick from months ago would be shitting himself over right now. He’s worried, because even when Negan falters, he doesn’t usually do it for this long.

“What’s goin’ on?” Rick asks, and Negan faces him, Lucille still clutched in his fingers. His grip on her tightens, knuckles whitening, before he holds her up in the air, as if putting her on display.

“Did you know this is just a fucking baseball bat?” Negan questions, and Rick senses an edge of sarcasm to his voice. Even so, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Negan had been totally serious, with how heavily he worships Lucille. He knows why, but still. 

“…I’m aware, yeah.” Rick answers with a nervous nod.

“Not my wife.” Negan reminds, and Rick nods again. “And fuck, I know that, but do you ever feel like you’re losing your goddamn mind over little, petty bullshit like naming a baseball bat after your late wife?”

Rick sighs. A part of him has always figured this moment would happen, but he hadn’t expected it to be in Alexandria, provoked by seemingly nothing. He wonders what could have brought a guy who had been perfectly fine calling his baseball bat Lucille a day ago to suddenly be thrown into an anxiety attack over it.

“…Yeah, actually.” He scratches the back of his neck. Negan has been completely honest about Lucille to him, but Rick hasn’t really told him much about Lori’s death. He hasn’t felt the need to. Never honestly thought Negan would care enough to listen, even if Rick himself has grown to care deeply for this guy. “When Lori died, I started gettin’ these phone calls at the prison. Didn’t make sense, because we didn’t have power or working phone lines, but I answered them anyway. Every time, it was my wife. And for a while, talking to her on that phone was my lifeline.” 

Negan’s gawking at Rick, but he doesn’t pay it much mind. He gets it, honestly. “I eventually realized it was a hallucination, but that didn’t stop it from being something that helped me get by. You probably are losin’ your mind, Negan, but that’s okay. In this world, I think we have to in order to get by.”

“…Jesus fucking Christ, Rick…” Negan says, clearly shocked. “Didn’t honestly think your crazy lined up with my crazy.” He’s almost laughing, and Rick feels some relief in seeing a dumbfounded smile on those lips. 

He approaches, standing directly in front of Negan, and claps a hand on the taller man’s chest. Blue eyes lock on hazel ones and he smiles. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

Negan’s arms curl around Rick’s frame, and he doesn’t fight the embrace.


	21. Dirty Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> literally a spur-of-the-moment thing based on a chat I had with someone on Discord. blame them lmfao

“Fuck, _yes…_ just like that, Rick.” Negan’s got his hands in Rick’s hair and his dick all but down Rick’s throat. He’s basically fucking his partner’s mouth, his tight grip keeping Rick close to him. “You always know _just_ what to do with that fucking mouth of yours. Sucking when you come back, doing that _thing_ with your tongue…”

He lets Rick pull back just enough that he can catch his breath. His face is beet red, drool glistening at the corners of his lips, and he looks so goddamn _fuckable_ , all wearing that determined look in his hazy blue eyes. Negan knows he likes when he gets talked to like that—likes being praised for doing such a damn good job.

“Well,” He teases, licking his lips as he meets those eyes with his own, “get back in there. See what else you can make me say to you.”

And Rick _does_. Like the determined little fuck he is (in and out of the bedroom), he goes right to town on Negan. Sucking, humming, just _barely_ letting his teeth graze Negan’s cock from time to time. It feels so good, makes Negan’s head spin, and the colorful flurry of is-he-cursing-or-is-he-praising spills from his lips like the fucking Gospel.

“You like that?” Negan somehow manages through the fog of nonstop pleasure tearing him apart right now. “Like it when I fuck your mouth like that? That get you _hot_ , Rick? I bet you’re gonna go crazy on yourself after this. Goddamn, I can’t wait to see—”

His orgasm comes sooner than he’s ready for. In his defense, he and Rick haven’t exactly been going at it nonstop lately. They’re busy men, after all.

But it’s not the orgasm part he’s worried about. It’s the fact that right _after_ he gets to the orgasm part, he just _goes weak_. Not seconds after he finishes in Rick’s mouth, his knees decide they’ve had enough and proceed to buckle right the fuck under him, and with a comical series of thudding noises, he collapses to the ground.

And Rick _laughs_ at him. In the middle of wiping excess come from the side of his mouth, he’s laughing. He can hardly swallow, that little motherfucker.

And Negan realizes with a mixture of horror and irritation that Rick’s never going to let him live that down.

Rick confirms this with words after he can use his mouth again.


	22. Chubby Nugget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got a request from a close friend for chubby Negan. Love me some chubby Negan. <3

Rick loves Negan. He loves being with him, and sleeping with him, and rolling around between the sheets with him. He loves talking to him, listening to him flap his big jaw more than any human being should ever do so. Loves seeing him at work, at home, around his kids, or frankly anywhere.

But most of all, he adores lying in bed with Negan. Just…lying there. They’ll talk sometimes, or they’ll just snuggle up against one another and spend their time together in silence. Negan will caress Rick’s arm or shoulder or side, and Rick will drag his fingers along Negan’s chest and stomach.

Negan responds particularly pleasantly to that kind of touch. He can talk all the flavors of dirty he wants to, but to be honest, all he really needs is a good belly rub, and when Rick gives the pudge on his stomach special attention, he’s as docile as can be. The gentle caresses have even lulled him to sleep a few times.

Sometimes, Rick will kiss along his chest and sides and belly and just  _listen_  to the praise Negan gives him. He’ll tell Rick just how good he is to him, and how little he actually deserves such an attentive guy like Rick Grimes. He melts like cotton candy when Rick’s lips and tongue meet the soft flesh of his stomach, sides, hips, and even along his arms. 

On occasion, it leads to more. But more often than not, it’s all Negan needs. He’s essentially putty in Rick’s grip, and there’s absolutely nothing the guy can do about it. 

For Rick, it’s a nice break from the rough-and-tumble start their relationship had had. It was their fighting that had led to their fucking, and when it went from that to such gentle, soft moments like their long cuddling sessions, Rick doesn’t know. 

But he doubts he’ll have it any other way.

Today is one of those. Rick’s got a placid grin on his face as his fingers draw lazy circles along Negan’s belly and the other man sleeps soundly right in front of him. Negan almost looks like a totally different person when he’s asleep. The self-satisfied smirk is gone, as if it were put away for bedtime like glasses, and his normally borderline aggressive posture is more like warm butter than anything right now.

And don’t get Rick wrong–he loves the daytime version of Negan more than anything in the world. But this one…this one is reserved for  _him_. This is the Negan Rick gets to see, and the Negan Rick will spend the rest of his life with.

Rick loves him so, so much. All the way from his smugness to the way he loves having his stomach rubbed. In moments like these, he feels like the luckiest man alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This friend and I have discussed this a lot. Headcanon is that chubby Negan loves having his belly rubbed. I'd love it if someone loved rubbing my tummy too!


	23. All This Corn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got this message from weinsanedreamer55 on tumblr: "Concept: With fall in the air Negan and Rick decide one day to take the kids to Hershel's farm where they have a pumpkin patch a corn maze and everything and lord behold they all end up getting stuck in the maze and once it starts to sink in that they're lost Judith starts crying. Negan being the amazing step-dad he is takes the liberty of carrying the little tyke until they manage to get out and Rick just sort of falls for the guy all over again."
> 
> and this drabble was born.

“There’s no way out!” Judith’s frantic at this point. Big tears stream down her round cheeks as the little blonde turns circles, seeking out some semblance of an escape from the apparently-well-designed corn maze. She hadn’t been this scared the entire time, but now that they’ve been lost in the overgrowth of corn stalks for a good half hour or so, the little girl is starting to lose hope.

“Judy, it’s okay…” Carl tries, significantly more calm than his younger sister. He’s in his teenage years, though, so if anything, he’s just irritated. There’s probably so much better he can be doing with his time than walking through a bunch of crops. Rick’s heard him going on about the bonfire that’s supposed to happen later since they arrived. No doubt Beth and Enid and Sophia are all going to be hanging out there–just where Carl wants to be.

But right now, Carl’s trying hard to be a good big brother and make his sister feel better, and in any other situation, it works. But right now, she’s beyond frightened. Carl can’t just  _comfort_  them out of the maze, and for that reason, she clearly doesn’t feel any better.

“No, it’s not!” Judith whimpers, wheeling around to meet her brother’s eyes with her own pair of tearful ones. “We’ve been looking and looking and we’re still stuck in all this  _corn_!” In frustration, the little girl kicks at one of the corn stalks.

Rick feels bad for her. Especially when he looks back at how excited she had been about the maze before they’d gotten lost in it. In the car, Judith had been all squeals and bouncing and delighted peeks out the window. Now, she’s crying, her sandals and the bottom of her dress are clouded over with dirt, and she looks anything  _but_  excited.

“Sweetie…” Rick joins, moving in on his daughter, but Judith shakes her head. 

“You have a cellphone, Daddy.” She nods to the outline in Rick’s pocket, where his smartphone not-quite-hides. “Call Grandpa and tell him we’re lost. He made this place, so he knows the way out, right?”

Judith’s got a good idea, honestly. It’s not as big a deal as she’s making it out to be, but she’s clearly upset. Calling Hershel and telling him they give in probably would be the best bet. But Rick sincerely doubts he has his cellphone on him anyway. 

“I’m sorry, Judy,” Rick answers, the apology genuine in his voice. “Grandpa’s very busy right now. He’s probably not payin’ attention to his phone…”

“Then call 911!” Judith breaks into sobs all over again. “I don’t wanna be stuck in here forever! I have school on Monday! What’s my teacher gonna think!?”

“She’s probably gonna think you’re brave as hell.” Negan’s voice cuts through Judith’s panic. Rick watches as his boyfriend moves in on Judith and scoops her up. The two have always had a soft spot for one another. From the very first time Judith and Negan laid eyes on one another, they’d known they’d be family. Negan was automatically her father, and Judith was instantly Negan’s daughter. 

So it’s no surprise when she calms down instantly in his grip. He hefts her up onto his shoulders, a big grin plastered on his lips. “Especially since you’re gonna be able to tell her you helped us all figure our way out of this mess. You can see above the maze now, right?”

Judith looks shocked, but after peering about from her new position on Negan’s shoulders, breaks out into a wide grin. “Uh-huh! We’re almost out!”

“That’s right,” Negan smiles, casts a glance toward Rick, and then turns his focus ahead of them. “Now, which way do we go next?”

Rick doesn’t hear Judith’s instructions after that. He merely follows along, because he can’t stop thinking about how amazing his family is. Judith, the powerfully articulate first-grader. Carl, the loyal big brother. And Negan…the newest member of the family. someone Rick realizes he’s never, ever going to stop falling for.


	24. Customer Service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request from a very dear friend of mine in the Regan community. Based on their own personal experience. This was a damn blast to write.

“I’m so sorry, Sir.”

Rick’s a mess. Today easily measures up as one of the most challenging days he has ever had to endure in his half-a-year career as a Wal-Mart sales associate. He’s just starting to adjust to the growing customer flow in what should be a small-town King County store, but when his register decides not to accept his current customer’s pin number _multiple times_ , to the point of it locking up and Rick desperately needing his supervisor to come over and unlock it, he feels like he might collapse in on himself.

He doesn’t need this. Between his studies and his job and his dwindling social life, Rick feels completely overwhelmed right now. And the stare coming from the impatient-looking customer leaning with his arm next to the credit card reader, Rick feels even more uncomfortable. He’s halfway thinking he’d be better off with his nose buried in a textbook and thoughts of looming exams haunting him than the borderline demonic glare from the man on the other side of the register right now. Rick wants to take off like a bat out of hell, but his impending rent due date keeps him rooted to his spot.

The apology is the last verbal exchange between them, before Rick’s supervisor finally arrives, inserts the key into the computer, and resets the transaction. The unfortunate part, which has the customer looking even more impatient, is that Rick has to scan everything all over again. The good news, however, is that the customer decides to run the card as credit this time, which results in a successful transaction and Rick not having to spend much more time trying to deal with one asshole who either doesn’t know his pin number or doesn’t understand that sometimes malfunctions happen.

Needless to say, he eagerly waves the motherfucker off and ties up the loose ends with a practiced, “Thanks for shopping with us!”

Rick’s supervisor cocks an eyebrow at him, but eventually walks off. Chances are, said supervisor agrees that the customer Rick just dealt with was a jerk and probably deserved more than just the kill-them-with-kindness attitude he’d been given.

Either way, Rick doesn’t have to think about him anymore.

Except he does, because things like that don’t just up and go away. Working in customer service, it’s a harsh reality an employee has to accept. They can receive compliments and smiles and appreciation all day long, but the instant that one customer with the nasty attitude comes in, flaunting their negativity and self-centeredness, the good mood fades like the screen in a bad horror movie.

Rick cleans his work station with an atmosphere of irritation to him. Thankfully, after that one customer, there’s a break in the rush and Rick has time to take out his frustration on the cleaning spray he’s currently scrubbing harshly into the conveyor belt and scale and bagging station.

“ _Babe!_ ”

Negan’s voice is almost an octave higher than normal, and when Rick looks up to regard his boyfriend, he knows why.

This motherfucker is higher than the goddamned AKA.

Negan approaches with an airy sluggishness to him, a dopey grin on his face, and eyes so bloodshot it looks like he poured peroxide into them. In his arms, he cradles a bag of buffalo ranch potato chips, a pack of Jolly Rancher candy, and a container of Bubble Tape that Rick isn’t entirely certain he wants to know what Negan plans on doing with it.

Rick already knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Negan’s going to come to his register. High or not, he always does. But right now, he’s mostly not even on the planet Earth right now, and as he unceremoniously deposits the contents of his purchase at Rick’s till, he continues to grin that stupid grin across the register at his boyfriend.

“…What?” Rick practically barks, still kind of irritated by his last customer. He’s a little uncomfortable that his supervisor will hear the commotion (or just smell the reefer on Negan) and come by to see what’s going on, and after the previous encounter, Rick really doesn’t want to have to explain why his undoubtedly floating boyfriend smells like he took a bath in pine cones right now.

“What’s it look like?” Negan lilts, propping his elbow up next to the card reader not unlike how the customer before him had done. The difference this time, however, is that Rick’s being met with a lopsided grin rather than a fierce scowl. It’s a step up, that’s for sure. “I had to come pick up some shit, and now, I’m paying for it.”

“Why do you need Bubble Tape?” Rick scans the container of gum and then holds it up, before he lets it fall into the sack at the bagging station.

Negan just shrugs. “Because I like gum. I wanted some to get this spicy-as-fuck potato chip taste out of my mouth for when you get home.”

“ _Negan,_ I’m at work,” Rick snaps quickly. “You can’t say things like that while I’m on the clock.”

“Nobody but you heard me, baby,” Negan responds calmly. He drifts off for a second there, staring dreamily ahead, somewhere past Rick, to the point that the smaller man finds himself turning to see who Negan’s looking at. It turns out he’s just such a space cadet right now that he’s zoned the fuck out into who knows what dimension.

But soon enough, he floats back. It’s just as Rick is totaling the sale that Negan comes back to reality. A look of realization has crossed his face by now.

“You know what you need to do?”

And then Negan does something so far out in left field that even Rick, his boyfriend of nearly three years, can’t predict. He brings both hands into the air, and then lowers them gracefully to his sides, before fluttering them right back up over his shoulders once more.

“You need to fly, baby. Spread those wings and _be free._ ”

Rick doesn’t know what to think. He’s staring right into the eyes of a very, _very_ stoned man who just _happens_ to be his boyfriend, who he loves very much but is heavily questioning the sanity of right now. And to top it all off, Negan just _keeps flapping_. His arms move slowly, at such a pace that Rick actually wonders if he might start ascending into the air if he does it for too long.

“Please, just pay for your shit.” Rick begs, unable to look his boyfriend in the eyes.

Luckily for him, Negan does. He swipes his card and scoops his purchase up out of the bagging area, before his wide grin grows even bigger.

“I love you.” He says, before turning and heading toward the store’s exit.

Rick doesn’t realize it yet, but Negan just turned the bad day Rick had feared right over onto its head.

There’s a reason he loves Negan.


	25. Hammocks With Holes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anon on Tumblr requested a drabble of Rick and Negan trying to get into a hammock together and then back out.

“Stop fucking pushing.”

“I’m not.”

“I believe my left testicle would beg to goddamn differ, Rick.”

They’re a mess. All half-stuffed into Negan’s hammock outside of their new house, apparently with Rick’s heel jammed hard against Negan’s crotch as he tries to climb in properly. In Rick’s defense, the last time he tried to crawl into one of these godforsaken things was when he was Judy’s age, and he wasn’t much more graceful then, either.

“It’s your fault for buyin’ the kind with holes in them.” Rick retorts, ignoring the way Negan scowls bitterly as he tries to gain some traction with his ballsack and heft himself up into the thing.

“Ouch–fucking Christ, Rick! You keep pushing like that and you’re gonna pop one!” Negan looks genuinely distressed. In any other situation, Rick would have laughed, but right now, he’s either going to pull a hamstring dangling like this or flop like a sack of potatoes onto the ground. Neither seem fun, so at the expense of Negan’s precious boy bag, Rick is going to get into this hammock one way or another.

“Then move out of the way!” Rick retorts, as his next push upward causes the hammock to wobble threateningly.

“I can’t right now, asshole,” Negan grits his teeth. “You’ve sort of got me pinned by a very important body part right now–oh fuck, watch the dick!”

Finally, Rick manages to tug himself up into the hammock, and with some effort, he settles himself in half atop his boyfriend, half beside him.

Negan breathes a sigh of relief, before clasping a hand over the crotch of his jeans. “I thought I was going to lose you…”

“You’re so dramatic,” Rick says with a roll of the eyes.

“Do you like sex?” Negan asks, curling an arm around Rick’s frame. “Do you like it when I put my still-fucking-functional penis into you? Because so do I.”

Rick places a hand on his lover’s chest and tips his head up to press a kiss to his jaw. “Fine, yeah, okay. I’m sorry, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Negan retorts playfully, “don’t hold your breath, you did quite the number on Lucille Number Tw–nope, wait! We’re still in working order.”

Rick sits bolt upright. “Are you serious? Right now?”

“Can you blame me?” Negan outright laughs. “How hot would it fucking be for us to go at it right here in this hammock?”

“You’re delusional,” Rick snorts, before cupping a hand over Negan’s face and giving him a playful shove. Despite that, he leans down and steals a kiss. He doesn’t mind when Negan chuckles against his lips and cups a hand behind his head to hold him there. Even though Rick’s got no intentions to humor Negan’s desire for a romp in the hammock, he can definitely get behind a quick makeout session.

Or two.

Or three.

And maybe a little heavy petting.

Definitely a little heavy petting.

Negan’s dick still works, by the way.

They’d stay longer in their nice little position in the hammock, but now, Negan needs a new change of pants and Rick doesn’t want to get to a point where he needs the same thing, so they decide to attempt to clamber out again.

The end result is Rick trying to work around Negan’s larger frame and get off the hammock first, and then their struggle making it swing sideways, turn over, and proceed to dump them both onto the ground.


	26. Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabble request from justsimplymeagain on tumblr: Judith's first word is fuck so Negan tries to get her to stop before Rick gets home

“No, no, no--c’mon, Judy...” 

Negan’s screwed. Monumentally, royally, hardcore  _screwed_. He might as well invest in a collar with his name on it, because he’s going to be spending the next indefinite amount of time locked away in the doghouse.

Judith Grimes has learned the word ‘fuck’. 

And to add a cherry to the top of the situation, it’s her  _first_  word. Negan had so eagerly volunteered to watch Judith on his day off, while Rick was out at the station and Carl lazed around and helped with her whenever he needed to. It was really no big deal. Never has been, and Negan had always thought it never would be.

Until his stepdaughter decided she wanted to learn her first word from  _him_  of all people. Negan had been in the middle of preparing a bowl of malt-o-meal for Judy and Carl, when he’d gotten a little overzealous with the stirring process and wound up with a steaming hot lump of cereal on his forearm. Understandably, he’d dropped the f-bomb.

And then Judith had dropped it back.

So for the past eight hours, Negan has been hard at work on the task of breaking her of her new first word. He’s tried  _everything,_ from telling her to say ‘da-da’ instead, or ‘cup’, or ‘duck’. He’s tried offering rewards for correct pronunciation of the new words, and he’s tried begging her to stop saying ‘fuck’.

But no dice. Judith, finding her stepfather’s panic over her newest word entertaining, has been popping off with the word all day long. 

“Judith Grimes,” Negan tries, now sitting on his ass in the middle of the living room with a finger pointed at the little girl’s face, “that is a  _naughty_  word, little girl, and I’d highly suggest you cut it out.”

Judith just smiles.

When Rick comes home from work, Negan’s got Judith cuddled up on the couch with him, keeping her and her new potty-mouth occupied by movies and gummies, while Carl sits on the armchair nearby and tries not to laugh. He knows how in trouble Negan’s about to be, and Negan can only distract Judith for so long.

Accepting his fate, Negan greets his husband with a defeated smile, and then nudges Judith. “Say hi to your daddy, Judy! What’d we learn today?”

Judith grins, extends her arms, and opens her mouth to squeal out a loud, “Da-Da!”

Negan hears Carl’s jaw drop, lets out a long sigh, and watches as Rick all but melts right in front of him. And are those  _tears?_ Negan’s starting to soften a little, himself. He can almost swallow down the crippling fear that he’s going to lose his spousely privileges very soon in favor of watching Rick’s heart turn to gelatin.

Apparently, Rick’s excitement about Judith’s newest word has the little girl more apt to saying ‘da-da’ than ‘fuck’ now, because she doesn’t use it again for the entirety of the night. Instead, she touches Rick’s face and curls up to him and repeats her father’s name over and over again, and Rick spends the rest of the evening wrapped up in his little girl and how proud he is of her intelligence.

Negan almost thinks he’s gotten off scott-free, until they’re undressing for bed. Rick has already crawled onto the mattress and is pulling the sheets onto his body when he speaks up, stopping Negan from joining him.

“You get the couch tonight, Negan.”

Negan’s stomach plummets. He doesn’t even bother acting shocked. 

“I’m kidding, Negan,” Rick laughs. “Really, I think it’s cute you tried to cover it up by teachin’ her how to say ‘da-da’. Bonus points for it actually workin’.”

Negan lets out a laugh amidst an exhale. “...Either you’re more perceptive than our two fucking years together could teach me, or someone sold me out. Was it Carl?”

“Yeah,” Rick answers, “he texted me a warnin’. But she said it to me in her bath. Either way, I was gonna find out. It’s not that big a deal, Negan.” Rick pats the mattress next to him. “Just learn to watch your mouth around her, will you?”

Negan scoffs as he moves to crawl into bed.” No promises, baby.” 

“I can still make you sleep on the couch,” Rick warns.


	27. Begging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you-answer-to-me on tumblr requested dom!Rick/sub!Negan + begging, and I can always get behind some dom!Rick. NSFW for obvious reasons.

“Just look at you.”

Rick’s voice bears just the perfect weight of encouragement. He’s lying atop an unfortunately-still-clothed Negan, a finger hooked into one of his partner’s belt loops and a sly smirk stretched across his lips. Rick doesn’t often get into this kind of mindset, but when he does, it’s like a jolt of electricity straight to Negan’s dick. 

He looks like some sort of blue-eyed snake, with his gaze all wide and analytical, tongue lashing out every now and then to taste already-moist, plump lips. Negan can think of at least fifty different places he wants that tongue to be off the top of his head.

On a couch isn’t exactly Negan’s location of choice, but with Rick’s lean frame and all the subtle muscles pressing so firmly against his abdomen and groin and thighs, he doesn’t give a shit where they do this. So long as Rick keeps acting like he’s about to dominate the fuck out of Negan, Negan will be ready to go on just about any surface.

Negan casts a glance down the long expanse of his own chest at Rick’s face. He smirks, his expression oozing anticipation. Rick just raises both eyebrows back up at him.

“You’ll take it however you can get it, huh?”

Those words are so unlike Rick and so _just like_ him at the same fucking time that Negan’s dick uproots itself in just seconds like a slinky at the bottom of the stairs. If his pants weren’t doing such an amazing job containing him, Negan would be standing straight up in Rick’s face right now.

“C’mon, baby…” Negan pants, letting his head fall back onto the arm of the couch. “Don’t be so cold. I’m not _that_ easy. Unless it’s for you.”

“You would say that,” Rick teases right back. “You know, you’ve gotta get that under control.”

Negan cocks an eyebrow, before throwing the smaller man a sardonic grin. “What _ever_ do you mean?”

When Rick props his head up on his hands and, in a somewhat painful manner, uses Negan’s abdomen as a table for his elbows, the Sanctuary leader just about loses it. Rick’s smile is placid and also somehow taunting. He looks like he’s talking about any old thing, when he’s actually trying to be a dick.

“Your obsession with me.”

“Damn,” Negan lets out a breathy scoff, “don’t you think ‘obsession’ is a kind of fucking intense way to describe it?”

“You knew what I meant, didn’t you?” As if it’s nothing, Rick goes back to Negan’s pants. While his hands are working open the larger man’s belt, Rick nibbles at the thick material just off to the side of Negan’s crotch. “Guess that means you’ve got a guilty conscience.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rick,” Negan tries, and he’s rewarded with a sharp bite straight through his jeans, to his inner thigh. It stings like hell, and Negan winces visibly at the feeling.

“Watch what you say to me right now…” Rick warns. As he turns his head and nuzzles Negan’s cock through his jeans, Negan feels a warm shiver work its way right up from his groin to his chest and straight to his skull, making him feel like he’s melting. He lets out a low moan, which is apparently exactly what Rick was going for. “You be good for me, and you might get a little bit of what you want…”

“Oh, fuck…” From Negan’s mouth spills another moan. He can’t stop himself from bringing his hand up to bury his fingers in Rick’s hair.

Rick opens his mouth and closes it around the thick outline of Negan’s hardening shaft through his jeans. “Put your hands over your head, Negan,” he orders, his words hot and rumbling against Negan’s stifled erection. “ _Now._ ”

Negan’s always known that there was a side of Rick like this, but he sure as shit wasn’t ready for it today. Not that he minds, of course. This isn’t the first time Negan’s thought about what it would be like for Rick to dominate the shit out of him. There have been times when Negan’s looked at him and thought, ‘ _Goddamn, I’d love him to make good on that hateful ass stare,_ ’ or ‘ _wonder how badly he wants to hate fuck me right now?_ ’

This one is only different in the sense that Negan isn’t sure what he wants Rick to do. He just wants him to keep up whatever act he’s putting on right now.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Negan praises, as he obeys and folds his hands up over his head, using the arm of the couch as leverage.

“Shut up,” Rick growls. “Just keep your fuckin’ mouth closed until I give you a reason to open it.”

Well damn, Rick. When put it like that, how is Negan supposed to refuse?

Negan is a man of many words, but when given the option to witness whatever Rick’s got coming, of course he’s going to be quiet. It’s no issue for him to just sit there with his hands resting over his head and watch as Rick goes to work.

Soon enough, the button and zipper to Negan’s jeans comes open, and Rick hooks his fingers into the waistband so that he can pull them straight off. Negan arches his hips enough to make the task easier, and then he nearly loses it when he sees the way Rick drinks in the sight of him.

It takes everything he has to keep quiet then. A comment referring to the way Rick’s looking at him is bubbling at the back of his throat, but Negan bites his lip hard to stifle it.

“You want me to keep goin’?” Rick questions, his eyes prompting Negan for a response. “You want me to fuck you, Negan?”

Of course Negan does. Who in the fuck would turn down something like getting your shit wrecked by Rick Fucking Goddamned Grimes? Not Negan, that’s for fucking sure.

His face flushes with arousal, as he nods slowly. “Yes, Rick. Fuck yes.”

The pause that follows Negan’s words is unbearable. Rick sits up just barely, before he creeps himself right back up along Negan’s body, chest and stomach rubbing along the tip of the larger man’s dick in the process. He stops just inches from Negan’s face, and once he’s so close that Negan can feel the man’s breath on his lips, Rick finally speaks.

“Beg for it, then.”

Whoa.

Holy fucking _whoa._

“S’cuse me?” The question and all its incredulousness tumbles out before Negan can stop it.

“You heard me,” Rick growls. “Beg. Tell me how much you want me inside you.”

A surge of excitement ripples through Negan’s abdomen and chest, eliciting a shaky, breathy laugh from him. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Do you want to keep goin’?” Rick cocks an eyebrow.

“Well yeah, dumbshit.”

“Then get to beggin’.” Rick sits back, pushes Negan’s cock back and down until it’s lying flush against his abdomen, and then rocks down against him. “Convince me to give you what you want.”

Oh, _fuck_. Negan’s head’s spinning, his mind completely overwhelmed by Rick’s sharp tones, harsh wording, and the friction of his jeans just barely grinding against the sensitive skin of his partner’s dick. Rick’s pulling out all the stops, Negan just knows he isn’t being left hanging. It’s not like he’s never rubbed one out before, but that doesn’t mean he wants to.

So he swallows his pride, glares right up at the man teasing him, and opens his mouth to speak.

“Fuck me, Rick.” If Negan’s expression doesn’t say he’s serious, his body language does. Negan’s been obedient so far, putting his hands over his head and only speaking when he’s been asked to, but he can’t stop himself from arching up into the rough contact of Rick’s gyrations against him. He wants more, damn it. “Fuck the shit out of me, _please._ Make my head spin, screw the words right off of my tongue. I know you can do it, baby. _Please._ ”

And like that, Negan knows he’s gotten his way. Rick’s stare has evolved into a smirk, and as he licks his lips, he says something that would sooner come out of the mouth of Negan himself.

“’ _Atta boy._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger because I'm awful. But if I kept going, it wouldn't be a drabble anymore. xD


	28. "Maybe we should."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from justsimplymeagain on tumblr

“So this is it, then.” 

“Yeah, I suppose it fucking is.”

They’re standing in shambles, amidst the wreckage of the once-proud-and-powerful Alexandria. Smoke and ash dance around them like confetti. The two men--Rick, Alexandria’s leader, and Negan, the man who helped him reduce the community to embers, stand face-to-face, eyes narrowed at one another. Rick’s bleeding from the side of his head, a hand clutched around his upper forearm.

Rick’s not going to go into crazy detail, but he will say he should have known better than to fall in love with this man. He’d known from the start just what kind of person Negan was--that he was a man of priority, and his priority was taking care of his men at the Sanctuary. That Alexandria mattered little to him, so long as his precious boytoy was still alive.

Yeah, Rick knows that’s all he has ever been to Negan. He knows that all those times of stealing away against walls and into closets and bathrooms and onto Rick’s couch, all tangled lips and tongues and arms and legs and bodies coming together as one...while all of that had held some level of emotional value to Rick, it had just been physical release for Negan. 

It  _always_  had. 

And yet, Rick had still gone stumbling right into that man’s arms every single time he’d wanted him to. He’d let himself get tugged right under the swell of Negan’s big hands and strangely soft, meaningful kisses. Where it had gone from sucking Negan off to willingly spreading his legs and bending over for Negan was beyond Rick, but here he is.

And even today, he can’t bring himself to regret it. 

But he knows it’s over now. Alexandria is in ruins, with fewer survivors than Rick can count on two hands, and it’s all Negan’s fault. Negan’s fucking temper tantrums, because Rick and the others had threatened him--had made him feel like he and the Sanctuary were actually in danger. And Negan’s response had been to destroy Alexandria in a sea of grenades and gunfire and walkers.

So yeah, it’s over. 

“You know,” Negan offers, his face blackened by the smoke and ash dancing around them, “the Sanctuary is still standing. We got plenty of space there, if you and your people need somewhere to stay.”

“Are you serious?” Rick sneers. “You kill most of my people and then invite me onto your doorstep like it’s nothing? Go fuck yourself, Negan.”

Rick grits his teeth and looks away. Thank God Carl and Judith and Michonne are alright, but the corpses of so many others swim around them, littered about the rubble and charred wood of houses and porches. Behind Rick somewhere, a car catches fire.

Why couldn’t he have had the same emotional impact on Negan that Negan had had on him? Why does it have to be this way?

“Maybe we should just go our separate ways, then?” Negan brings up, and even though Rick picks up an ounce of pain in those words, he forces himself not to take it to heart. He’s done taking Negan to heart.

“Yeah...maybe we should.”


	29. "Did you come?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompted by Hatterized on tumblr

In Negan’s defense, he got a little carried away. But can he really be blamed?

The sexual tension between them had really been mounting. The two had entered a heated game of Cat and Mouse, the challenge unspoken but so, so there. It had started with a pair of hazel eyes wandering down the expanse of a lean chest and a flick of the tongue out to wet hungry lips, and continued into a long, gut-wrenching back-and-forth that had both Negan and Rick aching for more. One day, they’d just use their words to flirt with one another, and the next, they’d damn near be in each other’s laps.

Negan had wanted Rick long before the game had started, too. At the time, it had been difficult to tell if Rick was interested or not, so he’d never bothered trying to push the envelope anymore. But the very instant Rick gave him a sign, Negan started toeing the line religiously.

And the more he toed, the more he wanted Rick. Sliding an arm around the blue-eyed bombshell’s waist was hardly enough. Whispering things that were just on the edge of romantic barely gave any satisfaction. And when Rick played along, it became even more of a challenge.

So when Rick finally caved in and hiked up the pace of their game with a hungry mouth on Negan’s, of course Negan was going to respond in kind. Of course they’d clamber into Rick’s car with their tongues down one another’s throats, drive down to the lake outside of town with Negan palming Rick through his jeans while he drove. Of course Negan would coax Rick out of the car and fuck him right against the hood of his car until they were both screaming like wild animals out into the dense forest surrounding them.

After so long wanting, the finally-achieved release makes Negan almost incoherent. So, after pulling out, he yanks his pants up and damn near collapses onto the ground in front of the car. He loses touch momentarily with reality, and it honestly feels for a second like he’s having an out-of-body experience. Even Ghost Negan can remember how good the sex was just now. His head feels light and floaty, as if he’s been dipping on Molly during the course of the past hour, and his entire body is warm and tingly, and as much as he’d  _like_  to go again, he doubts he’d be able to even if the opportunity presented itself.

But when a minute or so passes and he comes down from his high, Negan realizes Rick is still standing. He’s still got his pants around his ankles,and his dick is still hard enough that it could probably slice through the hood of the car. He’s giving himself slow, languid strokes, his face flushed and glistening with sweat.

“Oh shit...” Negan realizes, pushing himself up. “Rick...baby, did you come?”

“Yeah,” Rick answers, panting. “Negan, it was so good. You should’ve heard yourself. Can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

Wait...did Rick get himself hard all over again thinking about Negan fucking him? Negan’s cock twitches with interest when spurred along by the realization. 

“You mean to tell me that you’re revved the fuck up again already?” Negan knows he’s got a good six or so years on Rick in terms of age, but surely their libidos aren’t that far apart. The increasing fullness in the crotch of Negan’s pants tells him he’s not far behind, but damn...

“Yeah,” Rick admits, laughing nervously, “I am.” He stops touching himself, however, and turns to Negan, his flushed face lit up with a ferocity the larger man just wants to bury himself in. “Help me out, don’t just stand there.”

‘ _Don’t just fucking stand there? You little shitass...’_

“You did not just order me to suck your dick.”

“Well, no, I don’t care how you do it...”

“Challenge fucking accepted, Rick Grimes.”

Negan’s got no problem getting on his knees in front of Rick and swallowing him whole. The way Rick moans and leans back against the hood of his own car makes it seem an awful lot like he doesn’t mind, either. 

This is going to be a long night.


	30. "Anything for you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon, inspired by an old rp and some heavy discussion with a friend. The prompt was "Anything for you". Enjoy!

Rick isn’t sure if he loves Negan or if it’s just infatuation. Either way, their relationship has created a monster in him. A ruthless killing machine, a man determined to do everything for someone he adores, gun always raised. 

Rick doesn’t remember exactly how it came to be this way. He doesn’t remember how his meeting with Negan went, or when he stopped being Rick Grimes, Sheriff’s Deputy of King County, Georgia.

He does remember Negan’s subtle guidance changing him, though. Low-spoken phrases like ‘ _Are you gonna take that shit?’_ and ‘ _You’ve gotta put your foot down, baby...’,_ all so encouraging and reassuring and  _right behind him_ , to the point that Rick wordlessly followed along and became someone he’d never thought he was going to be. But people listened when Rick did as Negan suggested. Coworkers, people in custody, and even his own  _friends--_ they listened, all because Rick did what Negan said.

When the world ended, it was no surprise Negan had Rick under his wing. It didn’t even take the Sanctuary leader’s command anymore, either. Rick just  _knew_  Negan wanted someone dead, and it was as simple as pointing a gun or raising a hatchet. With blood splattered across Rick’s face, he’d turn a stony gaze up to regard his self-proclaimed voice of reason, and said voice of reason would smirk back approvingly. Rick could hear the voice without Negan having to say the words. ‘ _Atta boy, Rick...’_

Negan rewarded him, too. Rick was good for him, but when he went above and beyond the call of duty, he’d find himself on the receiving end of heated kisses to the crook of the neck or a hand trailing down along his abdomen. Negan would praise him, all the while giving him a sweet, sweet release he’d grown so apt to craving from the man.

It might not be love, but it’s  _something_. And it’s something  _powerful_. Something that keeps Rick by Negan’s side, loyal and dedicated and ready to pick up the entire world and move it for him. Rick doesn’t need logic to tell him that he’s being cruel--he  _knows_. But what he  _also_  knows is that he’d do anything for Negan. Even if one of those things happens to be cruel.

They’ve just returned from a raid on a small community that Rick can’t even remember the name of. One of Negan’s men drives in the front seat, while Negan lingers in the back seat with Rick, pressing him flat against the cushions while he kisses his partner with so much intensity that he feels he might burst. From Rick’s lips, and against Negan’s, reverberates a soft, keening moan.

Negan reciprocates with a weighted chuckle, deep and heavy and meaningful. It almost sounds like he might adore Rick as much as Rick adores him.

“Love seeing you like that, Rick,” Negan commends, his voice so sweet and deep and rumbling, necessary to Rick in the way that a heartbeat is necessary to life. “All in Beast Mode, not putting up with anyone’s shit. I couldn’t ask for a better fucking right hand man.”

Rick’s stomach does a flip, but it doesn’t show on his face. He just turns curious blue eyes to Negan’s and breaks off the kiss in favor of running a hand down along the side of his head and neck, stopping at his collarbone. “Is that what I am?”

“Something like that,” Negan responds, and Rick swears he sees warmth in the other man’s expression. He wonders if Negan adores him as much as he adores Negan. “Doesn’t that fit the fucking bill, baby? My partner in crime, the Bonnie to my goddamn Clyde? Someone who would do anything for me? Willing to give his life just to make sure I survive?”

Rick drags his hand back up to Negan’s face, brushing a thumb across his partner’s lower lip. His eyes scan Negan’s features, blue orbs dancing back and forth from eyes to nose to mouth to sharp jawline, back to eyes, lost in a state of pure, unfettered wonder. 

He  _would_  give anything for Negan. And yeah, in the process it’s made him into something cruel and dangerous. But it’s worth it. He’s ready to conquer the world as Negan’s right hand man. As Negan’s  _anything._  As long as he’s Negan’s, he doesn’t care.

“Yeah. Anything for you.”

The sureness in Rick’s voice is received well. Negan’s own curiosity drops from his features and gives way to a wide, affectionate grin. “Good,” he responds, as he dips down to steal another kiss, drawing another moan from Rick’s lips when he slides a leg between the smaller man’s thighs. “And let it be known I’d do anything for you, too.”


	31. "Are you okay?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by anonymous on tumblr - "are you okay?"

The hit comes so hard that it knocks Rick’s brain right off its axis, sending him reeling off-balance, the noises surrounding him coming in fuzzy, as if the radio signal to his mind has been obstructed and is struggling to come back. He stumbles sideways, and while he feels like his legs are moving properly enough to put him back on solid ground, it’s like the ground keeps dodging his footsteps, and the next thing he knows, he’s on his side on the cold floor.

Somehow, Rick’s right hand finds frigid concrete, and he stops himself from slumping over completely. He feels nauseous, and blackness fills the corners of his periphery, fading out to color, and then back in to black all over again, until he’s sure he’s going to pass out.

And then the fuzzy noises around him grow more clear and he can hear the sounds of struggling somewhere in front of him. Rick thinks Negan’s voice is the one he hears grunting, but there’s another one somewhere. The metallic clattering of a gun on the ground. Rick hears someone--not Negan this time--curse, and then the rough impact of body against body. One of them crashes to the ground, and Rick finally comes to.

Negan’s standing over Rick’s assailant, who he now remembers had cracked him hard on the side of the head with the butt of an empty assault rifle. He doesn’t recognize the enemy though--just another nameless, faceless guy they happened to encounter on a scavenging run. Just Rick and Negan, because going on runs together is something that’s so common between them anymore.

Rick’s head starts to pound, and he sees blood on the concrete where he was half-lying down. He pushes himself up, stumbles to his feet, and ambles his way toward Negan, just as the larger man dives forward and embeds a fist in his new enemy’s face. Lucille is nowhere to be seen. Rick glances about in his still-foggy vision for her, but he can’t seem to find her.

Not that it matters, though, because he’s starting to feel sick to his stomach. That hit to his temple must have really gotten him good...

Rick takes a single step back, before he lets his legs give out on him and collapses to the ground once more. He places a hand on the side of his head, and when it comes back bloody, he feels himself pale a little. Another glance toward Negan tells Rick that his partner has spotted him. As he falls back onto his elbows and lets his consciousness waver again, he can swear he hears Negan calling out his name. He finally spots Lucille a few feet away from where Negan and the attacker are.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“ _Rick!”_  

Negan’s voice is as soothing as it is abrasive. Abrasive in the sense that Rick’s head is still pounding, but soothing because it’s familiar. God...when did Negan’s voice get familiar? Rick doesn’t remember when he had gone from hating the very scrape of Negan’s voice on his eardrums to finding some familiarity, some  _necessity_  in hearing it.

How long had he and Negan been doing this? Going on runs together? If Rick really thinks hard about it, he can vaguely remember an argument--a desperate, pleading,  _angry_  version of himself insisting that this can’t be it for the rest of Alexandria’s life, and a taunting, malevolent Negan barking out fits of laughter in response. He can remember socking the man hard in the face, putting him up against a wall, and then ending up dragged into an RV for a trip.

The fighting hadn’t ceased at that, either. Rick had picked at Negan tooth and nail on every run the man had dragged him out onto. He’d stubbornly refused to go certain directions, using his own scavenging knowledge to convince Negan to let him have control just  _once_ , and he’d proven his worth in the process. And somewhere amidst all of this, they’d ended up scavenging together damn near every other week.

The worst part of Negan’s voice being pleasant to Rick? The asshole is  _still_  collecting half of Alexandria’s shit. And yet, here Rick is, feeling like Negan’s voice is just the one he’d needed to hear right now. He feels like hell, but Negan makes him feel better. What the fuck is  _wrong_  with him?

“Rick, Jesus fuck, are you okay?” 

When Rick brings himself back into focus, he realizes he’s on the floor in the RV. Negan’s hovering over him, one hand on the side of his face. God, that hand’s warm. Rick’s cheek stings a little, so he guesses Negan was trying to slap him into consciousness. It must have been working. Unconsciously, Rick smiles a little.

“Don’t freak out too much, Negan.” Rick teases, his gaze meeting Negan’s hazel one.

That concerned expression falls from Negan’s face in seconds, and he plops unceremoniously onto the ground to sit next to Rick, smirking ruefully down at him. “What the hell is just one fucker supposed to do out here in the middle of the dead assholes all alone? Of course I need you alive.”

“Yep,” Rick smiles to himself, “you do. I just got knocked out, though. I’m fine.” When he pushes himself up into a sitting position again and doesn’t come up dizzy, he confirms that fact. He offers Negan a genuine smile. “Thank you, though.”

Negan just smiles back.


	32. "Love me, please."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anonymous on tumblr - "Love me, please."

The first month wasn’t so bad. Negan was proud of how well he handled it, honestly. He’d found himself a little shack out on the countryside. It wasn’t much–just a bedroom, a kitchenette, tiny shower, and an outhouse–but it was good enough to turn into a home. Negan had built himself a little fire pit outside of the house and spent most of his time scavenging through the surrounding areas and then coming home and warming up around a homemade bonfire.

The second month was a little more lonely. Negan knew he was being watched by Maggie’s buddy, and a couple times, he’d offered the man a wave and a cheery ‘hello!’, followed by an invite for dinner that Dante had all but refused. But it was still too quiet, too lonely, and brought back memories of the cell Negan had been locked in for so long.

Three months in, and Negan was scrambling for things to do. He welcomed people into his little shack with open arms–had damn near gotten himself killed a couple of times in the process.And once people had been deemed too dangerous, he sought out walkers. In a fit of near-insanity, Negan found himself out in his ‘front yard’–a tiny enclosure of dead grass surrounding his shack and outhouse–screaming for the infected to pay him a visit. A stupid as shit move, but Negan had been lucky enough not to trigger an actual herd. At the very least, it had felt good to knife a few rotting skulls and then wash off in a shower that ran on well water, but lacked a water heater. He rubbed one out afterward and then went to bed.

On the first day of the fourth month, Rick showed up. It was well into the winter and Negan had finally gotten his hands on a generator and some gas to heat his tiny home with. Rick looked tired, confused, and about fifty shades of uncertain. He didn’t look like he’d wanted to come visit Negan. It looked more as if he’d needed to. He’d later informed Negan that he’d wanted to check on him. To see how he was doing. Negan had known better, because he’d known about Dante, but he’d also been tickled pink to see Rick, who everyone who knew Negan knew he adored Rick. It had been good to see him–to see that he wasn’t drowning in his sorrows.

Throughout the course of the fifth month, Rick showed up regularly. He visited for an array of reasons–many of which Negan teased him and called ‘excuses’. “Of course you wanted to fucking see me, no harm there. Who wouldn’t? This face disappears from your life and you start to feel like a piece of you is fucking missing.” Rick didn’t seem to mind–just holed himself up for a day or so in Negan’s shack, sought out his advice or company or whatever the fuck he wanted, and then went back to Alexandria. Negan missed him more and more every time.

Midway through the sixth month, Negan got lucky and caught himself a deer. He shared the spoils with Rick–gave him plenty to send back to Alexandria. “It’s hard as fuck to keep it all for myself. Shit spoils fast, y’know? Just bring me back some food next time to make up for it or some shit.” Rick had look all shades of amazed, impressed, and maybe even a little infatuated. The expression had made Negan’s day. 

When Rick spent the first week of the seventh month with Negan, it was the best week he’d had in a long-ass time. He’d brought food from Alexandria, and lots of conversation. It was much warmer now, and Negan and Rick spent much of their time improving upon Negan’s makeshift home. It really did feel like home at this point, too. Especially when Rick was there.

The eighth month, Rick looked more grim than usual. On pure instinct, Negan had feared the worst. Had something happened to Carl? Did Alexandria or the Hilltop get attacked? What the hell had Rick looking like he’d taken a punch to the gut? Rick hadn’t been keen on telling him, but he  _had_  decided to spend the nights during his stay with his arms wrapped around Negan and his face buried in his chest. On the last day, he admitted that his image of Negan was starting to change, and he was afraid of that. Afraid of what his people would think.

Month nine was exhausting. Rick had made it clear to Negan the previous month that he wouldn’t be able to spend much out at the shack this time around. That they had important things to take care of in their network of communities back at his home. It was a good thing, and it wasn’t permanent. It was in seeing Rick tell Negan this that he noticed how Rick’s cold regard for him had devolved into more understanding and appreciation than anything. Maybe Rick was starting to accept the realization he’d had from the month before. That he wasn’t the same guy who had run the Sanctuary all those years ago. It was flattering. Made Negan feel warmer than any fire pit could hope to.

On the tenth month, Rick surprised Negan by kissing him on the mouth. He showed up at the doorstep to the revised shack Negan lived in, and the instant the door had been opened, Negan had found himself face-to-face, mouth-to-mouth with none other than Rick Grimes. He’d reciprocated instantly, and the end result had been him and someone he’d loved for so very fucking long tangled up in his bed, all sweaty arms and legs and mouths and noses nuzzling all over each other. They didn’t leave that bed most of the day. The shack was plenty roomy for the two of them when they were so wrapped up in one another. Negan spent a lot of time kissing the scar tissue that marred Rick’s knee, and Rick grazed his fingers over the faint discoloration where Negan’s throat had been slashed. They didn’t apologize. It wasn’t necessary, because neither man was sorry. But they were happy with what they had now.

Three days into the eleventh month, and Rick arrived with more food. Trades back at his home had been going well, and the Hilltop had greeted them with a surplus of food and supplies and clothing. Negan cooked on his fire pit a lot that month. He cooked for Rick, and for himself, and because it was just nice to have things  _to_ cook with. After one particularly good meal, he and Rick fucked right there on the counter in the little kitchenette. Negan burned his hand, but it was okay.

When Rick showed up the twelfth month, Negan confessed his feelings to him. Told him outright he loved him. Rick didn’t answer, but he did kiss him again. He did spread his legs for him. He did pull Negan down onto and inside of him like it meant the world to him. They didn’t speak–they just came together, lips moving fluidly, like they were made to be together.

But it sat rough with Negan. He wasn’t sure how to take it. How did Rick feel? What were they doing? Why wasn’t Negan back at Alexandria, with him? Why weren’t they  _lovers_ , rather than just a couple of friends who fucked a lot?

As Rick made his departure after that, Negan found himself saying it again.

“I love you.” 

Rick waved goodbye.

Negan’s shoulders slumped.

‘ _Love me, please..’_


	33. "Everyone, shut up!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt from anonymous on tumblr: "Everyone, shut up!"

Rick had seen many different sides of Negan before. The quietly taunting, seething,  _daring_  one. The playful, ornery, tooth-baring, teasing one. The self-indulgent, erratic, fun-loving one.

But he’d never actually seen Negan angry. 

The loud booming roar from Negan’s exclamation still rings out through the now-silent Alexandrian church. Negan’s got Lucille’s barbs heavily embedded in the table at the altar, and his eyes are wide and fierce and so, so dark. Rick’s standing a few feet away from him, and even he can’t help but feel a little smaller seeing the other man react this way.

“ _EVERYONE, SHUT UP!”_

Negan’s shaking, he’s so upset. His fingers tremble around the handle of his trusty vampire bat, and his breathing comes out in quivering, erratic, panting bursts.

At the very least, he’s succeeded in quieting the uproar that had been going on within the church’s walls. Nobody’s thrilled about having Negan here, but with the Sanctuary compromised and the other communities at risk of being in the same position, Negan and the last few Saviors he has left have had no choice but to retreat to here.

They don’t know who these mysterious invaders are, but they know there are a lot of them, and they know that they’re all going to need to come together to stand a chance against them. If not, they’re  _fucked_. Everything any of them has ever worked to build is as good as dead if they don’t hurry the fuck up and do something.

Rick’s attempt to call a meeting had initially seemed like it was going to fail, but with Negan now at the helm, everyone’s listening. They all look scared shitless, though. Even Rosita isn’t making so much as a peep. 

Negan lowers Lucille from the table. “You assholes want to keep dodging the point and act like my being here is the biggest fucking problem you got right now, be my fucking guest.” His voice is low, deep, threatening. It comes out as barely above a whisper, but somehow, everyone can hear every syllable without a problem. “But you do that, and you fuck up any chance the rest of us got to survive, and I’ll feed you to Lucille my goddamned self.”

There’s a long silence, but now that there’s some sort of order in the church, Rick moves to stand by Negan’s side. He starts their meeting by clearing his throat. He’s still a little shaken up, and apparently Negan notices, because the man slides his arms around his shoulders and gives his right one a reassuring squeeze.

“We need to get to the Hilltop,” Rick announces, his voice a little raspy. “Let ‘em know what’s goin’ on before this goes any more sideways then it has to. There are a lot of people countin’ on us.”

— — — — —

After the meeting, Rick retreats to his home. He’s got Negan hot on his feet, but he finds he doesn’t really care. He just needs to start mapping out emergency plans and routes into other communities. If they’re going to get attacked like the Sanctuary did, they’ve got to be ready. 

But he’s honestly scared.

At one point, Negan had been the biggest threat he’d ever faced. They’d long-since reached a slightly more manageable agreement and Rick and Negan have found one another on better terms…good, even.  _Really_  good.

But now that they’ve gotten their shit sorted out and there’s yet another threat–a bigger one–Rick wonders how much more he can take. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen if they manage to eliminate this new threat. Is another one going to show up after that? A  _bigger_  one? Is this the cycle they have to continuously endure? Fighting until something bigger decides to fight them back?

Rick’s honestly over it.

He enters his home feeling more defeated and tired than motivated, but he knows he doesn’t have a choice. He’s got to do something. His people are scared.  _Negan_  is scared. The Hilltop and the Kingdom and Oceanside are going to be scared. So many lives, and so little time to save them. How long had these people given Negan? A handful of weeks before they fanned out? Jesus…

“Rick,” Negan calls out behind Rick, but he doesn’t quite hear it. He’s already in his living room, with old, tattered notebooks sprawled out on his coffee table and a pencil in hand. He feels the weight of the other man taking a seat on the couch next to him, but he doesn’t process the actual presence. He’s too busy thinking. He’s got to think  _harder_.

He starts to write, even as Negan mumbles something next to him. He can’t quite hear what the other man is saying. ‘ _I’ll pay attention later, Negan,’_ he promises to himself as he scribbles and thinks and scribbles and thinks in perfect succession, like placing beads on a necklace.

Not that he’s coming up with anything too fruitful. He knows his mind isn’t going to formulate much under the pressure he’s feeling right now, but goddamn it, he’s got to try. He hasn’t got  _time_  not to come up with something.

“Rick,” Negan tries again, and Rick hears his voice a little more clearly this time. “Please, listen to me. You’re not doing yourself any fucking good right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rick grumbles as he turns his attention to a map next to his notebook. He follows a route with his pencil, but when he realizes how connected to the Sanctuary it is–how close to the danger it is–he nearly breaks the lead pressing down on the paper in frustration. “Gotta do somethin’.”

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Negan sighs from next to him. “We can talk to the other groups–put a whole bunch of brilliant minds together instead of just two. You’re just shitting on yourself right now. C’mon, take it easy.”

“I can’t,” Rick says around gritted teeth. “What if the time frame they gave you isn’t the real one? What if they’re gonna be here in the mornin’? What do I do? My kids–”

“That’s fucking goddamned ridiculous, Rick.” Negan’s voice sounds exasperated, but Rick honestly doesn’t care right now. “You’re letting your thoughts get away from you. You’ve got to take it easy–give yourself a level head about this.”

“I don’t have  _time_  for that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Negan, shut up,” Rick growls, baring his teeth. He tries to focus on his studies again. “We don’t know these people–don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“Yeah, and that’s why we need to talk about this with other people.” Negan’s trying. Rick will give him that. If he were to look over, he’d probably see just how irritated the other man was growing. But right now, he’s just got to focus.

“I’ve gotta have somethin’ for them to go off of, then–”

“Will you fucking  _stop?”_

Rick looks up from his work, because Negan has taken to closing his fingers around his wrist, effectively stopping him from writing. He’s angry at first, but when he turns his gaze up to Negan’s and sees the same fierce frustration on the other man’s face, his irritation falters.

He doesn’t say anything. He supposes it’s time to listen.

“I’m scared, too,” Negan admits. “I just lost a whole metric fuckton of people. People I just gave hope to, and then watched it taken away. People who deserved this chance as much as yours do. I’m worried and I’m frustrated, and I’m fucking  _pissed_ , but that’s all the more reason to get my shit straight and keep a level head. I’ve gotta sleep on this, and so do you.”

“Negan, I–”

A hand cups the side of Rick’s face, and he freezes on the spot, his chest and stomach tingling almost violently. He damn near feels drunk on the contact–realizes just how warm and comforting Negan’s long fingers are on his skin. 

“Stop. Just…stop, Rick. Please.” Negan’s eyes are wide, effectively begging, as he scoots in a little closer. “It’s gonna be okay, baby.”

_Baby…_

_“_ We’re the fucking dream team. We’ve got this.” Negan’s reassurance doesn’t fall on deaf ears, but Rick will admit he can’t stop shaking now. He’s always known that Negan had a soft side. Hell, he’s been on the receiving end of it plenty of times. But this…this is something else entirely.

“Promise,” Rick demands. “Promise we’re gonna save these people. Don’t let me down, Negan.”

“I promise, Rick.” Negan smiles, finally feeling like he’s getting through to his partner. “These assholes don’t know what kind of dick they’ve fucked themselves over with just yet. We’re gonna show ‘em.”

Rick honestly feels so much comfort from those words. He feels himself relax visibly, and his body feels warm and heavy, like he’s under the influence of a high-dosage narcotic. He likes the sensation. Still, he stares as firmly as ever into Negan’s eyes. He doesn’t speak.

“What?” Negan scoffs. “Do I have to seal this shit with a kiss or something? C’mere, Rick.”

Negan’s big arms slide around Rick’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Rick finds he likes the size difference between them in this situation. Negan envelops him like a blanket, with his broad chest and shoulders, and Rick learns quickly that he can bury his face in the other man’s collar and take in his scent and warmth all in one breath. He melts like butter.

“Better?” Negan laughs. Rick just knows the larger man can tell the pleasant influence he’s having on him.

“…Shut up,” Rick merely retorts. He feels Negan shifting their weight a little, and he doesn’t protest when he realizes it’s because Negan’s pushing them down to lie on the couch together. He slides a leg between the larger man’s…curls his arms around that lean waist. Presses his nose into Negan’s chest, even daring a kiss there. It’s the ‘thank you’ he can’t quite manage yet.

But Negan catches onto it. He laughs, hearty and throaty and deep, making Rick’s nerves shudder in the best way possible. “Wow, excuse the fuck out of me, baby, but did you just kiss me?”

“You called me ‘baby’,” Rick quips back. “Twice.”

Silence fills the room after that, echoing on the walls and furniture and windows for a handful of seconds, before Negan finally speaks again.

“Want me to say it to you again?”

Rick’s heart leaps. He pulls back, looking Negan in the eyes. A hand splays out on the larger man’s chest.

“…Yeah.”

He doesn’t fight it when Negan shifts them so that Rick’s on his back on the couch, or when those lean thighs straddle his waist. Or when Negan dips down to capture his lips in a kiss. As Negan makes good on his promise, slathering the word against Rick’s lips and neck and chest, the Alexandria leader shamelessly thinks that this may be just the escape from the day’s surprise he needs.

He’s not sure if it’s a moment of weakness, but as Negan slides a hand up his shirt and he arches up into the slight roughness of those fingers, he finds he doesn’t care. It feels good, and that’s what matters right now. Rick needs this.


	34. "I can change."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from anonymous on tumblr, "I can change"

“I can change. I  _swear_.”

But could he?

Could he really?

Negan had been awful at commitment since he could remember. He’d loved his wife more than life itself, and he’d still slept around on her. He’d been dedicated to his children every year he’d taught, but he’d still been plenty happy when they were no longer on his roster. And when the world had ended, he’d gone off and gotten himself a bunch of wives, who he could sleep with whenever he’d felt like it, but  _they_  hadn’t been allowed to have sex with anyone but him.

And then he’d gone and fallen in love with Rick. And Rick had known all of this. Even as they sat here and Negan promised the other man he could change for him, he knew that it was unlikely. He knew that even though his heart ached for Rick in the way it had ached for Lucille, he’d probably still be tempted by things he didn’t have.

Negan was greedy and self-centered and egotistical, and he honestly wasn’t worth any chance Rick might have been tempted to give him. 

Rick was  _everything._ Smart, loyal, strong, and dedicated to those he considered family. He had flaws, but they were a part of what made him so goddamned beautiful. Rick knew he had his heart in the right place, but he knew his methods had always been questionable at best. He was a constant work in progress, always growing and changing and making himself stronger and, in the process,  _more fucking beautiful._

Negan loved him so much. But was that enough? Would that be all it took to become someone worthy of a guy like Rick Grimes?

He had to hope so. He had to pray that he’d learned his lesson. Surely, he wouldn’t have the gall to let his wife’s death be completely devoid of a purpose. Sometimes, he thought about her death being a punishment for how unfaithful and ungrateful he had been toward her…but that thought usually only made him more angry at God or whatever.

Still…

Negan and Rick were in his room at the Sanctuary. Rick sat in an armchair, leaned back with his hands on the armrests, while Negan sat forward on his spot on the couch across from the other man, his elbows on his knees. He looked defeated and tired and desperate, and despite it being a look he’d spent so long trying to hide from other people, he made no effort to do so right now. Hopefully that spoke for something.

“Can you?” Rick wondered aloud. There was no accusation in his tone. He was suprisingly patient. How he could be in a situation like this was beyond Negan. Negan was only asking him to  _be with him_ , after all. And Rick knew everything he’d ever done. And here he was, giving Negan a chance to plead his case on the matter.

Negan didn’t deserve him. Even if he’d come out of this whole thing one hundred percent loyal and changed, he’d never be worthy. 

That was just how it was.

“To be honest…I don’t know.” Negan admitted, running his palm across his forehead and then through his hair. It was slicked back, but the sheer strength of the gesture pulled a few strands from the hold and caused them to fall forward across his forehead. He didn’t care. “I’m gonna try, though. I really, really am. I can’t fucking stand the thought of losing you…”

He saw Rick’s eyebrows shoot up, before the smaller man leaned forward as well. There was a coffee table separating them, but Rick still extended a hand. Negan took it.

“That’s a very big thing to say to me, Negan,” Rick responded, thumb brushing the top of Negan’s hand. “Makes me think you might be serious. I…I  _want_  you to be serious.”

“I  _am_.” Negan nodded fervently. “And if I fuck up, you can kill me yourself.”

At that, Rick pushed himself to his feet. He rounded the coffee table, took a seat next to Negan, and tipped himself forward to steal a chaste kiss. Despite the shortness of the action, Negan leaned right into it, sinking into the feeling of having Rick right there. His heart flipped and his stomach twisted, and he felt like he was going to be sick in the best way possible. Just like when he had proposed to Lucille.

When Rick pulled back, he shot Negan a wry smirk. “Then  _don’t_ fuck up. I’m countin’ on you, Negan.”


	35. "Are you okay?" Ver II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by milarca on tumblr: "are you okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for this one: Homophobia + Homophobic slurs

“I told you, you shouldn’t have gotten into it with that guy.” Rick’s got a stern look on his face as he doctors the split in the skin on Negan’s right cheekbone. He’s bleeding all over. One nostril has just recently stopped oozing the crimson liquid, and dried blood covers a split lip. Negan’s right eye is swollen, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“He got into it with me too, you know,” Negan retorts simply. He’s got his lips all curled downward into a grumpy scowl, and he looks all of the immature twenty-eight years old he is. Rick’s just a few years younger, but he’s known Negan since he was a teenager. Ever since he’d spotted him in that recreation room at the batting cages in his senior year of high school, he and Negan have been inseparable. Negan, who’s working on getting a job teaching high school baseball, constantly toes the line between having that job and not with things like this.

In this case, it was some punk at the night club Negan and Rick had decided to go to. A rare day off from work for both of them had them mutually deciding to spend the night together having a good time. And it  _had_  been a good time, until both of them had gotten a few drinks in them and gotten a little intimate on the dance floor.

For the record, Rick doesn’t care to ever hear another homophobic slur in his life, so he sure as hell doesn’t blame Negan for lashing out.

— — — — —

_It’s a little bit of everything. Between the music shifting from fast and energetic to something slower and more romantic, and the alcohol swimming in Rick’s head and stomach and veins, and the couples dancing together around him, it’s only natural for him to want to be closer to his boyfriend._

_They’ve been together damn near six years. Happily together. Rick loves him so much it hurts. Negan has always looked and acted like a smarmy asshole, but when it comes to just the two of them, he’s everything Rick has ever wanted. A study buddy during school, a support system when finals had him on the verge of a breakdown, and a rock when he had to come out to his family that he’d fallen in love with another man._

_So of course, he’d like to take the slow music as his chance to get in close and let Negan know how much he appreciated him._

_It starts with an arm around Negan’s waist, and a hand upon his chest. Lips on his neck follow suit, and he speaks the words just loud enough for Negan to hear over the music circling around them._

_“I love you.”  
_

_Rick feels the vibration of Negan’s moan all the way down into his chest, and he smiles up at his boyfriend when said boyfriend cups the side of his face and turns his head up to see into his eyes. They sway to the music, and for a moment, Rick honestly doesn’t even feel like there is anyone else around. It’s just the two of them, happy together, living the fucking dream._

_“I love you too, baby. Funny how a pair of bright blue eyes is all it takes to make this prickly son of a bitch fucking melt like spit-on cotton candy.”  
_

_“I’m more than my eyes, Negan,” Rick teases, and when Negan’s grin widens, he knows the other man agrees.  
_

_“Don’t tell me you’re gonna make me come up with a list,” He retorts softly, brushing his thumb across Rick’s cheekbone. “You know I got a whole speech I could give you, but with all these rum and cokes in me, it’s not fuckin’ happening right now.”  
_

_“Mmm…” Rick cocks his head into the hand touching his face and slides his arms up until they’re around Negan’s neck. “I guess I could let it slide until we’re sober. Because, y’know, I love you.”  
_

_“Yeah, you do.” Negan doesn’t pay any mind to the surroundings as he dips his head and seals his lips against Rick’s. They come together fluidly after that, Rick pulling himself up against his partner’s body and Negan sliding those strong arms around his ass and hefting him up. Rick curls his legs around his boyfriend’s waist, bringing his hands to either side of Negan’s face.  
_

_It’s just as he slides his tongue out along Negan’s lower lip that all hell breaks loose._

_“Whoa, hey!”A voice Rick doesn’t recognize screams from not too far from them. When Rick breaks the kiss to regard the voice, he finds himself looking at a man with a gray beanie and bright red wife beater on. “Can’t you two do that shit behind closed doors?”  
_

_His stomach sinks as Negan speaks up._

_“S’cuse the fuck out of me, asshole, but publicity sure as shit doesn’t stop you and your one-night stand from swapping spit all night. I’ve seen her tongue down your throat, what, three times now?”  
_

_The man turns as red as his shirt. “Shut the fuck up, faggot. I’m just saying, you want to get it on? Do it somewhere where I don’t have to see it.”_

_Rick is on his feet on the ground now, glaring daggers at this guy. “Ever think we don’t want to see you and your girlfriend dry-humpin’ on the dance floor?”_

_The man narrows his eyes. “I sure as shit don’t see anyone else complaining.”_

_“They weren’t complaining about us, either,” Negan points out bitterly. “Why don’t you go fuck off somewhere and leave us to enjoy our night off together?”_

_“Aww, it’s your night off?” The man feigns a sweet voice. “Go suck each other’s dick in your own house. Quit making it weird here.”_

_Rick knows what’s going to happen before it does. He catches Negan’s forearm as the other man starts toward Red Shirt. “Negan, it’s not worth it. Let’s just go home–”_

_“No, fuck him,” Negan growls.  
_

_“That’s right, buddy,” The man taunts. “Start shit. I fuckin’ dare you.”  
_

_And start shit, Negan does. He lands the first hit, and in a flurry of gasps and shouts, the crowd suddenly thins. Before Rick can do much of anything, the two men are brawling it out, exchanging punches left and right. Negan gets the man square in the nose, and then in the stomach, before he finds himself on the receiving end of alternating punches to the chest and face. It takes Rick and the bouncers to separate them, and by the time it’s done, they’re both bleeding._

_One of the bouncers shoots Rick a glare._

_“Yeah, I know…” Rick sighs. “We’ll leave.”  
_

_On the way out, Negan spits blood onto the floor next to the man he’d just been fighting._

_— — — — —_

“I don’t care, Negan.” Rick sighs. “Look, I get it. I was mad at him too. But all you did was get us kicked out of a bar.”

“No, I didn’t,” Negan retorts. “I took my anger out on a sorry fucking son of a bitch who doesn’t know  _shit_.”

“That, you did,” Rick answers with a chuckle. “But it’s not like it’s going to change his mind. People like that…they’re not gonna change.”

When Rick finishes speaking, he notices that Negan isn’t looking at him. His eyes are focused somewhere off to the side. As Rick wraps up the job of cleaning his wounds and slaps a few steri-strips onto Negan’s cheek, he sits back and lets out a sigh.

“Negan…I didn’t like it, either.”

“There are still people like that out there, Rick,” Negan suddenly voices. “People who think that a guy kissing another guy or a girl kissing another girl is somehow fucking  _different._ Like it’s not normal or some shit. But I’ve never felt more goddamn comfortable kissing someone than when I’ve kissed you.”

Rick sits back, momentarily speechless. 

“I don’t care how gross someone finds it,” Negan keeps going. “It’s perfect to me, and when someone tries to tell me that something I find so goddamn wonderful and beautiful isn’t, of course I’m gonna fight that shit. That wiry strand of ass-hair doesn’t know how lucky I am to have you. He never will. He doesn’t deserve half an ounce of what I’ve got. Shit…” Negan scrubs at the back of his neck with the palm of his hand, before he turns his gaze up to Rick. “ _I_  don’t deserve half an ounce of what I’ve got.”

“Negan…” Rick swallows a lump of emotion in his throat. “You think I’d be with you if I didn’t think you deserved me?”

“I think you love me too much,” Negan answers honestly.

“I do.” Rick shrugs. “But you’re a good person. You’re a jerk and you don’t know when to quit sometimes, but I love that about you, too. Some shithead in a club isn’t ever gonna change that. When he said we should go suck each other’s dick at home, you know what I thought?”

Negan raises an eyebrow, waiting for Rick to continue.

“I thought, “you know what? Maybe I will.” because I like suckin’ your dick.”

Negan outright starts laughing. “Please tell me you’re going somewhere with this.”

“Shut up and you might find out,” Rick suggests smugly.

Negan just raises both hands in surrender.

“Anyway,” Rick continues, “I just thought I’d rather be at home suckin’ your dick, bein’ the little faggot that guy thinks I am, than watch him get a rise out of you. He’s not worth your time, Negan. He’s not worth anyone’s. Not even the woman he probably isn’t gettin’ laid with anymore. And you know what? No one else there cared! It’s just us against that one asshole.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Negan snaps back. “This world has a long fucking way to go before ‘queer’ is the new ‘straight’.”

“I don’t care,” Rick responds firmly. “What I care about is bein’ happy with you for the time being. But hey…” He grins, slumps down onto the floor where Negan’s tall ass has been sitting while Rick doctored him up, and pulls him into a kiss. The roughness of the split in his lip is actually a bit of a turn-on. “You want to do somethin’ about it? Let’s go march in a Pride Parade.”

Negan pulls back. “That sounds like a goddamn blast.”

They slip back together once more, Rick leaned back against the front of the couch while Negan kisses his lips and his neck and his shoulder, sliding his hands up his shirt. He arches into the contact and lets out a short, breathy moan.

But as Negan starts working open Rick’s belt, Rick breaks off the contact. He looks concerned. 

“…Are you okay?”

Negan huffs out an almost impatient laugh. “I’m about to take your pants off, aren’t I?”


	36. "Want to cuddle?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from anonymous on tumblr: "want to cuddle?"

Negan can’t think of a single time he’s ever seen Rick this way. The poor guy is all sniffles and shaky breaths, tear-stricken and looking smaller and weaker than Negan has ever imagined he could.

But he loved Michonne. Of course his breakup with her is going to upset him on this level. Strange, because Rick himself did the breaking up, but he’s got his reasons. Negan understands that.

He just wishes there was something he could do to help right now. He’s already asked, and Rick’s shaky answer had been, “Just stay here with me for a while.”

Negan doesn’t mind--he’ll stay by Rick’s side as long as he needs to. The two of them have been friends since he can remember. As a close friend of many years, he’s seen everything from Rick and Michonne meeting, to them flirting and starting to date, to them being fully committed to one another in a relationship.

And apparently, to Rick seeing that Michonne was falling out of love with him. That her heart was quickly growing committed to someone else. Rick had explained that she’d told him outright what was going on, but she wasn’t certain if it was a permanent thing or just the thought of an exciting change. Michonne hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, and Rick and Negan both know she loves him all the same.

But...sometimes love changes.

Rick didn’t want to leave her trapped in a relationship with him. The breakup was a very well-executed, civilly-addressed one, and Rick had left the offer open to her to come back to him when she got her confusion sorted out. 

Rick just needs a friend right now, and Negan knows he needs to be that friend. Rick had been there for  _him_  all these years, after all. Losing Lucille had been the hardest thing Negan had been through in his entire life, and Rick had been right there the entire time. He’d seen Negan in this very same, sniveling, snot-dripping state many times over that woman’s death. 

Now, Negan understands why Rick’s expression had always been wracked with some twisted mixture between sympathy and defeat during all those times. He feels awful for Rick, and he honestly wants to take all the suffering away and make him forget everything that had happened over the course of the past handful of days, but at the same time, he knows he can’t do that.

So he extends his arms. Rick looks over at him like he’s crazy.

“C’mere,” Negan says simply. He makes goofy little ‘huh?’ noises in the back of his throat, trying to encourage his friend into his arms, before Rick finally lets out a wobbly laugh and scoots over, curling his arms around Negan’s waist and burying his tear-soaked face in the larger man’s shoulder.

“There, you go...” Negan smiles, burying his face in Rick’s hair. He slides his arms around the man’s shoulders and rubs soothing circles on his back. Rick is warm and comforting, and Negan finds he’s getting just as much out of this hug as his friend is. 

He clears his throat.

“Want to cuddle?”

A long silence follows Negan’s offer, but he notices that Rick doesn’t pull away. Even his shaky breathing seems to have stopped in his chest as he contemplates the offer given to him, before he finally nods against Negan’s shoulder and shoves him down.

Soon enough, they’re lying on Negan’s couch, with Rick sprawled out across his chest, fast asleep, and Negan flipping lazily through the Netflix selection on his television. He’s got one arm around his friend’s waist, his head propped up on a pillow, and an arm draped out over the edge of the couch as he looks for a good movie to watch.

He just barely settles on  _I Love You, Man_ , before he too succumbs to exhaustion and falls asleep on his couch.


	37. "Are you crying?" and "I believe you."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> requested by my-inspiration-is-art on tumblr: "Are you crying?" and "I believe you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.
> 
> comic-verse Regan this time around c:

Rick wishes Negan would stop shaking.

When did it end up like this? Just a handful of months ago, Rick had sent Negan on his way. Trusting that the man was going to make good on his promises that he wasn’t the same Negan that ran the Sanctuary all those years ago, Rick had exiled him in hopes of seeing him live a normal life. At least, as normal as life today could actually be.

And he had done exactly that. Found himself a little shack, made it his own, and learned to live the lonely existence that wasn’t taking from other people. Every time he spoke to Maggie, he would be greeted with a deep look of contemplation and a shake of the head.

 _“Not a damn thing,”_ she would tell him. _“He’s not doing a damn thing wrong. Dante says he’s always either sitting out on his porch or scavenging for food. From abandoned places. Says he looks lonely. Feels bad for him.”_

And then she would always follow up with, _“I hope you can understand when I tell you I don’t. Don’t get how anyone can.”_

Of course Rick understood. He knew none of them, himself included, would ever forgive Negan for all that had happened during the man’s reign over the Sanctuary and the surrounding communities. Negan had committed too many harsh atrocities for anyone to let that go. Maggie, especially, as she had lost her husband to Negan’s wrath.

But apparently, forgiveness hadn’t been something Rick had needed to cross the threshold from enemies to something better with Negan. He’d eventually caved in and asked Dante where he could find Negan, and he’d went to see the guy himself.

Negan had looked comfortable out there by himself. He’d acquired little odds and ends from his searches, ranging from portraits on his walls to cracked dishes and even a few other articles of clothing. Rick had noticed that he’d still stuck to his normal outfit by default, though.

Old habits died hard, but at least this wasn’t the worst one. Negan had seemed peaceful enough. He’d greeted Rick with a big smile and a whole bunch of excitement-riddled expletives. He’d thrown his big arms around Rick’s frame and practically pulled him off the ground into a bear hug Rick didn’t outright admit had felt extremely comforting.

And it’d all been downhill from there. At some point, Rick’s visits had grown regular. He’d stop by and neither of them would question the logistics behind it. In Rick’s mind, he had always known it was because leading Alexandria was lonelier without Carl or Michonne or Jesus around. He’d just…needed to be around someone he knew had some level of leadership experience and could understand where he was coming from.

Rick had sought so much solace in Negan, and Negan had been so lonely by himself, that it was no surprise when they’d tumbled into bed together. Negan’s bed was more of a mass of blankets on the ground, but it had worked just fine. With him atop Rick, all that had mattered to the smaller man had been pursuing a release he hadn’t realized he’d been longing so deeply for. Lips had fallen into sync together, and hands had cupped faces and roamed over bodies. Scars had been kissed, and bodies left thoroughly explored, both men panting and spent on the hard makeshift bed.

Negan had been a surprisingly gentle lover—all appreciative words, calling himself lucky time and time again, and even after the sex, he had spent a great deal of time praising Rick. He wouldn’t ever say he’d felt unloved, but for the first time since Andrea’s death, Rick had felt…embraced. Needed. And not in the sense of a leader. In a more personal way. After having lost Andrea, personal closeness hadn’t been something Rick went seeking out—he’d needed his space—but now that he had it again, he longed for it even when surrounded him in the form of Negan’s embrace.

From there, Rick’s visits had grown more frequent. He could tell everyone else knew what was going on, and he found no need to explain himself. So long as he could continuously wrap himself around Negan, curl up in bed with him, and sometimes even cry out his sorrows, he was fine. That had been all that had mattered. He had spent some time out with Negan as often as he could, but he’d always put Alexandria first. Negan had understood.

He should have invited Negan back to Alexandria, or maybe even given him a place to stay closer on the outskirts. He should _not_ have expected the man to continue his lonely existence so far away, without even thinking that things always had a tendency to go wrong when they were starting to feel so right.

Rick had found Negan on the ground outside of his little shack with a gunshot wound in the abdomen. He’d already faded a pale, ashen color, having lost too much blood. Rick hadn’t had the heart to ask him how long he’d been staying out here. How long he’d been waiting for someone to find him and save his life.

Now, that life is fading.

Negan’s trembling so much. Rick, on his knees next to him, lets the tears fall freely as he cups the larger man’s face. “You’re so cold…” He whimpers.

He sees a frail smile curl upward onto Negan’s lips. His eyes are growing more and more glassy by the second.

“…Rick…Are you fucking crying?”

Rick doesn’t answer. Of course he is. He’s a fucking mess right now. He’d dropped by in hopes of spending a handful of hours out here with someone he was quickly growing attached to. And now, that someone is fading just like so many before him. Rick selfishly allows himself to feel a little shred of hopelessness, before he draws his focus back to Negan.

“Listen…” Negan’s voice comes out in shaky, breathy whispers. His skin looks almost white. He’s somehow smirking that stupid smirk of his right now, on his deathbed. “You have to believe me, Rick…I don’t want to be the guy I was before…I never want to do that to you or your people again. I…Jesus fucking Christ…I love you so fucking much, Rick. I’m so fucking stupid for not saying it to you sooner. Please…believe me.”

“I do,” Rick exclaims around a sob, leaning down to rest his forehead on Negan’s. He hates how chilly and sweaty the skin feels. “I believe you. I…goddamn it, Negan…I love you, too.”

“Thanks,” Negan says, tipping his head up to brush his lips against Rick’s. “Thanks for giving me a fucking chance. We all know I didn’t deserve that shit. You’re too merciful for your own fucking good, Rick.”

“No…you didn’t deserve it,” Rick answers with a weak laugh. “But you do now. I should have let you come back home…”

“Too late for that, baby,” Negan responds honestly, but Rick doesn’t pick up any bitterness in his tone. “But that’s okay…shit, you actually fucking thought about it. That means…so much.”

For a while, the men just spend their time exchanging sweet, languid kisses. Rick’s hands roam, desperate to spread some warmth to Negan’s arms and shoulders and neck. He doesn’t think for a second about the chance that whoever did this to Negan could still be lurking somewhere.

Soon enough, though, Negan breaks off the kiss. “Do you think Heaven’s a real thing?”

Rick frowns. “…I…Negan, don’t do this.”

“I don’t have a choice, Rick.” Negan’s breath is shakier than ever, now. “But I know I’m not going to Heaven if it’s real. Doesn’t bother me, either. Sounds fucking boring. Shame I won’t get to see Lucille…”

“Negan…” Rick’s crying all over again.

“Shh…” Negan tries to shake his head, but even that looks like it takes effort. “It’s okay. This was bound to happen, Rick. What do I got left here?”

“Stupid, fucking idiot…” Rick growls weakly against Negan’s lips. “You’ve got me.”

“Bullshit.” Negan sighs. “Don’t say that shit to me. You’re the big fucking cheese back home. You need to go there…and focus on _being_ the big fucking cheese. You know that.”

“I do…” Rick admits. “But…damn it…!”

“It’s okay.” Negan smiles into a kiss Rick doesn’t remember starting. “You’ve got shit to do. And I know you can do it. You’re a better leader than I could…than I could ever fucking hope to be. I really do love you, okay?”

Rick sits back, and when he sees how gray Negan’s complexion has grown, he starts crying all over again. He nods weakly down at his partner.

“I…I love you too.”

“Gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

And like that, Negan’s gone. The smile falls slack on his lips and his hands rest limp at his sides. He’s not moving. He’s not breathing. There isn’t so much as a single twitch, and in seeing him like this, Rick can’t imagine there had ever been a time when he’d wanted this man dead.

He pulls a knife from the sheath on his belt and lets out a scream of despair as he embeds the blade in Negan’s temple, and then he collapses next to Negan’s corpse.

Nearly an hour later, Rick sluggishly rights himself and gets to work digging Negan a grave. He spends the evening working on it, and then buries the man without a word. No eulogy. No parting words. He doesn’t have anything to say.

He turns his head to the shack, and his shoulders slump.

…This is all the legacy Negan gets. Somehow, that doesn’t seem fair. But at the same time, maybe it’s what he deserves.

Despite that, Rick drops the shovel he’s been hard at work with once he’s done and shuffles his way back to the small building. He needs sleep.


End file.
